


The Fire That Burns

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heatwaves cause all sorts of problems, and bring out the worst in people.  Gotham is facing two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 1

 

Gotham City was currently suffering under two heat waves.  No one had expected either of them, and both were proving deadly.  The first heat wave was the normal kind, taking place during the day.  For the past nine days, the mercury routinely stayed over one hundred degrees, with the high day peaking at one hundred ten.  Weather forecasts showed a high pressure system stalled out over Gotham, and there were no signs of it weakening in the near future.  Triple digit temperatures were predicted to hang around for the next two weeks at a minimum.  Overnight lows got to a brisk eighty-five degrees at the coldest point in the past week, sending electric bills skyrocketing as air conditioners ran twenty-four hours a day.

The second heat wave hit only at night, and seemed to be aimed at a certain group of costumed vigilantes.  Batman had read Commissioner Gordon the riot act when it was revealed that Firefly was paroled from Blackgate Prison without the vigilante being notified.  The criminal had promptly returned to his favored nighttime activities.  While his first target had been an apartment building, his subsequent targets had turned more industrial.

The apartment fire hadn’t initially been linked to Firefly, but the following night, when a lumber yard was torched, and the accelerants used in both fires were matched, the connection was made.  The man liked any target that would burn long and hot.  His next two targets had been a chemical plant and an oil refinery, feeding the criminal’s need for flames nicely.

The caped vigilantes had used the previous targets to come up with a rudimentary list of potential future targets, and had staked out the next most likely spot the following night, only to guess completely wrong.  Firefly went small the following night, going completely against type, and burned a gas station.  The villain was happy with the small, but intense, fire.  Unfortunately, his willingness to hit such a small target increased the potential attack locations by several dozen.

Something was bothering Robin as he sat, staking out Petrochemical Mazatlán, and he had to point it out.  “Batman.”

A spark of hope flared in Batman’s voice as he replied, “Do you see something?”

“No, I just had a question.”

Batman sighed as he got his heart rate back under control.  “What?”

“Firefly is targeting basically anything flammable, right?”

“Yes.”

Robin nodded to himself.  “So, we’re staking out the most flammable places we can think of, right?”

“Yes,” Batman growled as he answered the obvious question.

“Is it such a good idea for us to actually be _in_ the building?”

The line was silent for half a minute before Batman replied.  “What are you doing in the building?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing in the building?  I’m following your orders.”

Batman had to think hard, wondering if he had actually ordered his youngest son into a potentially hot target.  Coming up with nothing, he asked, “Which orders are you following, Robin?”

“You told me to sweep and clear the building, then get to an observation point on the north east side of the building.”

A heavy sigh worked its way over the comm line.  Batman thought, _he’s technically correct, I didn’t actually stipulate to leave the building.  Even though it should have been obvious, it wasn’t._   “Tell me, Robin, how are you supposed to get a view of the building from the inside?”

“That’s what I just asked you,” came the exasperated reply.

Batman growled, “The answer is, you can’t, Robin.  Get a new vantage point, preferably outside of any potential blast radius.”

A cowed tone responded, “Yes, Batman.”

“As interesting as this conversation has been to listen to, we guessed wrong again,” Nightwing’s voice came over the open line.  “I’ve spotted smoke to the south east, and the signal just came up.”

“Uh, I hate to ruin the party, but I’ve got smoke to the north,” Red Robin’s voice broke into the conversation.

_Two in one night,_ Batman thought to himself, _that’s not his usual M.O._ “You two called them out, go investigate.  Robin and I will see what the Commissioner wants.”

Robin was waiting next to the Batmobile when Batman arrived.  He followed the vigilante around the vehicle, until he was blocking Batman’s path to the driver’s side.

Batman sighed softly and glared down at the youth.  “Robin?”

Ignoring the glare, something he had become all too good at for Batman’s liking, Robin said, “This doesn’t feel right, Batman.  He’s never hit two targets in one night.  How did he even get to both of them in such a short time?”

Growing annoyed, but feeling there was more behind his son’s decision to speak out at this time, Batman asked, “What would you suggest, then?”

Not knowing if Batman truly cared about his opinion, or if he was just humoring Robin to get this confrontation over with, Robin pushed ahead.  “Call the Commissioner; don’t drive all the way over to Police Plaza just to hear what he has to say.  We should be out there, doing something.  Not over with the police, waiting to hear if they’ve been flambéed.”

_I thought it was something like that._   Batman spoke softly, “Robin, something I had to learn and accept a long time ago was that I won’t always be there to protect all of you.  Neither will you.  You can’t be in more than one place at a time.  You have to be able to trust that your brothers are capable of taking care of themselves.  It’s something I’ve been struggling with for twenty years.  They can handle themselves, just like you can.”

“So, I’m not the only one who’s nervous?”  Robin’s tone was soft as he revealed his state of mind.

Batman picked up his son and gently tossed him into the passenger seat of the Batmobile before getting in himself and closing the canopy.  Robin was rubbing his shoulder from where it bounced off of the side of the vehicle as Batman said, “I’m nervous every night, Robin.  It’s how you respond to the nerves that matters.”

Robin considered what he heard as Batman dialed the Commissioner’s office.  The call was answered after almost a minute of waiting.

“Commissioner, what do you have for me?”

The firm voice of the harried police chief responded, “Two fires tonight, Batman.  These crimes need to be stopped, now.”

“You do have a police force to handle these things, Jim.”  Batman was scowling at the harsh tone in Gordon’s voice.  “What are they doing in all of this?  There are four hundred seven officers under your command.  I’m just one man.”

“You have your officers too, Batman.”

The glare sent at the dashboard would have been enough to trigger the airbag in a regular car.  Batman’s tone was deadly as he said, “My partners are far less disposable to me than your officers are to you, Commissioner.”

“So, what are you going to do about this, Batman?”

“With that attitude, I’m tempted to go home and let you deal with this on your own.  Remember, this arson wave is your fault.  If you had informed me that Firefly was being paroled before it happened, I could have been tracking him to make sure this never happened.  Remember this, Commissioner.  Just because you’re up for election in a month or two, doesn’t give you permission to order me around.  I don’t work for you.”

Commissioner Gordon was quiet for a minute before saying, “I’m sorry, Batman.  You’re right.  The election has me a bit nervous.  My competitors are using this recent arson wave as proof that I am ineffectual in my leadership of the GCPD.”

Batman snorted, “They obviously aren’t familiar with crime patterns in Gotham.  Give me the addresses for the fires; we’ll look into them.”

After taking the addresses and disconnecting the call, Robin looked up at Batman and asked, “What was that all about?”

“We just need to remind him every now and then that we don’t work for him.  He’s a good ally to have, but occasionally he forgets that I’m not actually Officer Batman.”  The barest hint of a smirk appeared under the cowl, “And you’re not Deputy Robin.  We’re going to have to split up to investigate these.  Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, Father.”

Batman keyed the radio and spoke.  “Nightwing, Red Robin, I have the addresses for your fires.  Red Robin, you are looking for a Sunoco station at the corner of 175th and Waverly.”

Red Robin’s voice sounded dark, “That’s almost up to Gotham Heights.”

“That _is_ Gotham Heights,” Batman replied.  “Nightwing, yours is an apartment building on the 1100 block of Alder, between Smith and Pine.  Robin will be coming to you.  Red Robin, give me your location.  I’ll come pick you up.”

“Uh, Batman?  I think you should come here, and send Robin to meet up with Red Robin,” Nightwing’s voice came over the radio.

“Wait,” Red Robin said, “You want to send your little baby bat traipsing all over the city, just to find me, when Batman could be here in ten minutes?”

“As he does keep telling us, he knows how to drive.  Batman, you could come here, and he can take the Batmobile.”

Batman thought for a second, then said, “We’ll stick to my original plan.  Robin, you should get going.”

“No,” Nightwing interrupted before Robin could do more than pull out his grapple gun, “Batman, you _need_ to come here.”

_This isn’t like Nightwing,_ Batman thought, _what is he getting at?_   “Do you have a problem with working with Robin, Nightwing?”

Batman was getting annoyed that so many of his orders were not being followed immediately tonight.  He looked over at Robin and saw a hurt expression on the visible portion of the boy’s face, as the boy thought of himself as the third wheel again.

“You know it isn’t that, and I know you are hearing this, Robin.  This is something that will be much better handled by you, Batman, if what I think happened has happened.”

“Explain your reasoning to me, Nightwing,” Batman said, more curious about what was going on now.

There was a deep breath on the other side of the line before Nightwing said, “The 1100 block of Alder Avenue.  Think about that address for a second.”

Batman was silent for almost a minute.  He then turned and looked at Robin, who stared back expectantly.  Finally, Batman asked, “Red Robin, what’s your location?”

“Corner of Waverly and 15th street.  Why?”

“Stay there.  Robin is coming to you.  Robin, no speeding, no breaking traffic laws, nothing.  Just get to 15th and Waverly.  You keep insisting that you can drive.  I’m trusting you with a lot right now.  Report in when you meet up with Red Robin.”

“Why,” Robin asked.

“Because I want to make sure that you don’t crash my car on the way,” Batman growled.

“No, I meant, why am I following the traffic laws and not speeding?  When has the Batmobile _ever_ followed traffic laws?  If I do that, then the police will think that it has been stolen, and will try to stop me.”

Red Robin laughed over the line, “He has a point there, Batman.”  Nightwing could also be heard snickering in the background.

Batman rolled his eyes under the cowl, “Just don’t hit anything, and call when you get there.”  Giving a smirk, Robin jumped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile.

A hum could be heard over the radio.  Nightwing asked, “I’m getting some interference over the radio.  Anyone else getting that?”

“It’s here, Nightwing,” Batman said, with almost a hint of mirth in his voice.  “Robin, mute your microphone.”

“What is that?  It’s annoying,” Nightwing complained.

“It’s not my fault that Batman is taller than I am,” Robin grumbled.

Nightwing sounded confused over the radio.  “So, that was…”

“The power seat adjuster in the Batmobile,” Batman said, having a hard time keeping a smile from his face as he watched his son moving forward slowly and rising up slightly in the car.  Nightwing was kind enough to mute his microphone before laughing.

Batman knelt next to the car when it appeared that Robin was ready to depart.  “Ready?”

Robin looked up and read concern in Batman’s face.  “Yes, Father,” Robin said quietly.  “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You’re ready, but this is a one-time deal.  Don’t get used to it.”

Robin sighed, “Yes, Batman.”

As the canopy of the Batmobile was closing, Robin heard a soft voice say, “Be safe, son.”

Robin pulled smoothly away from the staring Batman before keying the radio.  “Where am I going, Red Robin?”

The next eldest Bat’s voice came back, “Fifteenth and Waverly.  Wait, you’re actually driving?”

“Yes.  Why?”

You could hear the shrug in Red Robin’s voice.  “Nothing.  I’m surprised he didn’t just throw you in the passenger seat and set the auto-pilot.”

“Don’t say that,” Robin almost shouted, his eyes widening beneath his mask.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re on an open line, and I can still see Batman in the rearview mirror!”

“Didn’t think of that one, did you, Bats?”  Nightwing’s voice came over the line with a chuckle.

“…We’ll see how this goes.  I’m on my way, Nightwing.”

Ten minutes later, Robin’s voice came over the line.  “Okay, I’m here.  Where are you?”

“I see you.  Be right there.”

A throat was cleared over the line.  “Ahem.  Forgetting something, Robin?”

Robin sighed, “I’m here.  I didn’t hit anything or anybody.  I didn’t break enough traffic laws to be noticed by the police.”

“Red Robin?”

“No damage that I can see, Batman.”  The sound of the canopy opening came over the line as Red Robin said, “How was it, Robin?”

“We should really get satellite radio for this thing, and the mirrors are not optimally placed.”

“Of course they aren’t,” Batman said, “You’re a foot and a half shorter than the driver that car was designed around.  Now…um…”

Red Robin’s jaw dropped.  “Did you just say ‘um’?  I’ve never heard Batman say ‘um’ before.”

Robin sighed heavily as he got out of the car.  “What Batman is trying so delicately not to say is that he would like the one of us who possesses a legal driving license to take the wheel, even though Mother taught me to drive before Father taught you.”

“That’s debatable,” Red Robin said.

“Well, we can debate it later.  Get in, let’s go.”

As they drove north on Waverly Avenue, Robin sighed heavily again as he stared out of the passenger side window.  Red Robin shook his head slightly and made sure his microphone was muted before asking, “What’s wrong, Little Bat?”

“Nothing,” Robin growled.

“Liar.”

Robin’s head snapped around to stare at his brother, “I really hate it when you do that, so just stop it, Red Robin.”

“Okay, okay,” Red Robin said with a faint smile, “I’m just a bit concerned, that’s all.  What’s bothering you?”

Robin thought for a minute, wondering if this was the right time to delve into this.  Seeing the nearest street sign, reading Twenty-Seventh Street, Robin figured they had some time before they got to 175th.  “Was Hood right?” Robin asked softly.

“Was he right about what,” Red asked, confused.

Robin looked back out of the window as he said, “What did he call me?  The Consolation Prize of Sidekicks?  The Robin no one wants?  Be honest with me, is he right?”

Red Robin thought back until he figured out what Robin was talking about.  “Robin, that was almost two years ago, and he only said it to distract Dr. Daka.”

“That doesn’t make it a lie, though.  Is he right,” Robin pressed.

Red Robin sighed and said, “Robin, I would patrol with you any day of the week.”

Robin looked down, “Thank you, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“Fine.  I’ll be honest, you aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.  You didn’t make a good first impression on a lot of people.  It wasn’t your fault, though.  You didn’t know any better, and we sure can’t be accused of helping you any.”

“So, people _don’t_ like working with me,” Robin said softly.

Red shrugged, “Some, but you have spent far less time around other masks than any of us have.  It’s getting better, though.  You’re making big adjustments, and it shows.  You probably have a lot more support than you realize.”

Robin looked thoughtful for half a minute before saying, “Superman?”

“Superman will work with anyone, and you’ve had generally positive contact with him.”

“Wonder Woman?”

“She likes you,” Red Robin said with a smile, “I’m surprised you would even ask about her.”

“Green Arrow?”

Red Robin snorted, “Green Arrow doesn’t like anyone; it’s not just you.”

“Flash,” Robin asked, his tone lightening.

“Flash is probably your biggest supporter outside of the family, and Superman.  Of course, the fact that his daughter has a crush on you doesn’t hurt, either.”  Red Robin enjoyed the slight blush that came to the younger boy’s cheeks as he mentioned that.  “Before you go any further, are you planning on asking me how every person in a mask feels about you?  Because if you are, I really can’t speak for all of them.”

Robin shrugged, feeling a bit better.  “I guess not, but I have one more, The Titans.”

Another sigh was heaved.  Red Robin had hoped that the boy wouldn’t ask about them.  “I won’t lie to you, they aren’t fans.  That is mostly my fault, though.  I…kinda…vented to them about you when we were having our bad times.  Plus, you have spent almost zero time with any of them, so they only have my word to go on.  I almost hate to admit this, but some of them are a bit intimidated by you.  They’re pretty sure that you don’t need them.  You’ve been so successful as Robin that they’re pretty sure that you don’t need a team.”

“I don’t feel successful, most of the time,” was whispered from the passenger seat.

Red Robin felt sorry for the boy at his side.  “You’re better at this than you think.  Come on, what’s really bothering you?”

Robin looked over again.  “You know that I’ll work with any of you.  I don’t care who I work with, but why did Nightwing not want to work with _me_ tonight?  What did I do wrong?”

Red Robin looked critically at the boy.  “Is that what this is really about?  Does the 1100 block of Alder Avenue mean anything to you?”

Robin searched his memory for a minute before saying, “No, why?”

Red Robin shook his head and said, “1135 Alder, apartment two-A, is the current home of one Jason Peter Todd.  There is a possibility that Jason’s home just burned down.  Nightwing was just thinking ahead.  If that just happened, Hood is going to need a lot of support.  I’m not saying that you are incapable of providing that support.  What I’m saying is that he may not be in a frame of mind to accept that support from you.  Don’t feel bad, he wouldn’t accept it from me, either.  That’s why we’re heading to the other side of town, to investigate the other fire.  I know you two are getting along better, but…Jason doesn’t need or want either of us around right now.”

Robin was silent for close to a minute before saying, “I didn’t do anything wrong?  This was just another case of Nightwing looking out for us?”

“You haven’t done anything that I’ve heard about.  As for the other part…”

Red Robin swerved the Batmobile violently as a fireball erupted to the right of the car, cutting off the rest of this thought.  As the car spun to a halt, they watched the gas station they had been passing grow into a massive conflagration, as the underground storage tanks ignited.

Red Robin keyed his radio and reported in.  “A second gas station just went up at the corner of 161st and Waverly.”

“I see him!” Robin chimed in as he leapt from the car.  “He has a jet pack.  How the hell did he get a jet pack?  Why don’t we have jet packs?”  Robin ran off, pulling a grapple gun in hopes of getting a line on their quarry.

Red Robin ran to the remains of the gas station to check for survivors.  Finding everyone alive, if a bit shaken up, Red Robin ran off after Robin, and saw something amazing.  Through luck, and an amazing shot, Robin had managed to snag Firefly with a grapple line, and was swiftly dragged into the air.  Firefly noticed his passenger; who wouldn’t notice ninety-five pounds of youthful vigilante when it was suddenly attached to your leg?

Robin was reeling himself in when Firefly took a hard left down an alley, smashing the Boy Wonder into the side of a brick building.  To its credit, the grapple line didn’t snap at the impact.  The grapple gun itself snapped apart in his hand.  Robin’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock as he helplessly watched the casing crack, and the line reel fly quickly out of sight.  There was no time for any thought, other than _oh shit,_ before he fell the story and a half to the pavement below.

Red Robin ran up and knelt at the side of the softly moaning boy.  “Are you okay?  What were you thinking?”

Robin rolled slowly onto his side with a groan and looked up at Red Robin.  There were several small cuts and scrapes to the boy’s face and arms, and many scuffs and tears to his uniform that could be hiding more injuries.  Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, and there was already a bruise forming at the youth’s jawline.

Robin spit out a mouthful of blood before croaking out, “Track him.”

“What?”

“I got a tracker on him.  If it stuck, you can track him.”

Red Robin looked his partner up and down before saying, “Robin, you’re bleeding.”

Robin coughed, more blood spraying from his mouth, before saying, “I bit my tongue, and cheek, when he flew me into the wall.  It’s nothing.”

The elder helped the younger sit up against the wall as he said, “I’m getting the car.  Wait here.  _Don’t move.”_

Red Robin ran off after a slight nod from Robin, making a report as he went.  “Red Robin to Batman, a second gas station was hit, fourteen blocks from the initial target.  Robin pursued Firefly, but he was able to…get away.”

“Any casualties,” Batman asked.

“No casualties at the gas station, just…”

“…Just me,” Robin interrupted weakly.

“Explain,” Batman demanded tightly.

Robin painfully explained his attempt to snag their quarry, only to end up splattered against a wall like a bug on a windshield.  “I’m sorry, Batman, I failed.”

“Are you okay,” thinly veiled concern filled the Dark Knight’s voice.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” Robin said, as Red Robin helped him stand, “But that really hurt.”

Red was helping to settle Robin into the passenger seat when Batman said, “Red Robin, you take him home and get him checked out.  Robin, no arguments, you’re hurt.”

Robin coughed again, wincing as bruised ribs were attacked from the inside.  “I’m not arguing, Batman.  We’re going.”

As Red Robin prepared to leave, a beep caught his attention.  He glanced at a readout before saying, “It’s the tracker.  Looks like it’s only two blocks away.”

Red Robin looked over at Robin, who was wiping at the trail of blood working its way down his chin.  “Go get him.  I’ll stay here.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t be any help to you right now, anyway.  He needs to be stopped.”

Red Robin drove to the spot indicated on the map, but found nothing.  He began searching while Robin, still in the car, as promised, was refining the location of the beacon.  Nodding at his findings, he opened a comm line and said, “Red Robin, that alley, ten meters to your left.  The signal is coming from roughly halfway down.”

“Why aren’t you on your way home,” Batman’s irate voice came over the line.

Robin rolled his eyes, “We picked up a signal from the tracker.  It’s close by.  Don’t worry, Red Robin is doing the tracking.  I’m just reporting what the display in the car said.”

“You better not be moving, Robin.”

Robin took a deep breath, “Believe me, moving is not high on my list of fun activities right now.”

“Found it,” Red Robin broke it to the conversation.

“Found what,” Batman and Robin asked at the same time over the radio.

“The tracker.”

“He ditched the tracker,” Batman asked.

“And the jetpack it was attached to,” Red Robin said with a smile.  “The fuel indicator reads empty.  He must have dropped it and continued on foot.”

Batman sighed, “Okay, there are traffic cameras in that area.  We’ll track Firefly that way from the cave.  Take the jetpack and get Robin home.  You can’t have the jetpack, Robin, that’s evidence.”

Robin grumbled, bringing a smile to Red Robin’s face as he threw the jetpack into the trunk.  “Do you want us to pick you up,” Red Robin asked.

“No, we’re not done here yet.  Take Robin home.  I’ll call for the car when we’re ready.”

Driving back to the cave, Red Robin called the cave to report in. 

“Master Red Robin, I didn’t expect to be hearing your voice on this line.”

“I’m on my way in with Robin.  He’s been injured.”

There was concern in Alfred’s voice as he said, “I see.  Thank you for the advance warning.  What is the nature of the injuries, please?”

“I’m not going to a hospital,” Robin said emphatically, “That didn’t work out so well last time.”  Robin related the night’s activities, including a lengthy list of aches and pains.

Alfred was quiet for a short time before saying, “No, Master Robin, I think I can safely say you are not going to a hospital.  Where you are going, after a thorough examination and treatment, is bed, and I will not hear any arguments about that.”

“Why does everyone think I’m going to argue about getting some rest?  I feel like crap.  I’m not going to argue when we get back.  Bed might be the only place I really feel like going now.”

Red Robin looked over at Robin and thought _he must really be sore if he isn’t arguing.  Then again, it looked like he took a really big hit out there tonight._   “Almost there, Little Brother,” Red Robin said softly.

_Meanwhile, across town…_

“Okay, there are traffic cameras in that area.  We’ll track him that way from the cave.  Take the jetpack and get Robin home.  You can’t have the jetpack, Robin, that’s evidence.”

Batman thought he heard a grumble over the line and thought _maybe I can work on one for his birthday.  Why_ do _the criminals have jetpacks, and we don’t?  I think I may want one now._

Red Robin’s voice was coming over the line, “Do you want us to pick you up?”

“No, we’re not done here.  Take Robin home.  I’ll call for the car when we’re ready.”

The line disconnected and Batman thought about calling Alfred to warn him about the injuries.  _No, Tim is smart enough to do that._

Ghosting up next to Nightwing, Batman said, “Well, it is, isn’t it.”

Nightwing sighed, “1135 Alder Avenue; is sure is.”

Batman and Nightwing watched from the roof of a building across the street as the apartment building burned.  It was fully engulfed; there was no way for either vigilante to go in to look for survivors, or clues, until the fire fighters were done.  Fire crews were on scene, but there was no way to salvage the building.  The best they could do was put it out before it spread to adjacent buildings.

“Well,” Nightwing said, “The good news is that we know Firefly didn’t torch this building.  There is no way he could have gone from Gotham Heights, to Crime Alley, and back, in the time between fires.  Unfortunately, we know what caused this one.  Do you smell that?”

“Yes, I do,” Batman said gravely.

“Do you think Jason knew,” Nightwing asked nervously.

“There is no way he knew about a Meth lab in his building and didn’t shut it down.  There is no way he would ignore something like that.”

“Do…,” Nightwing said slowly, not really wanting to say what was going through his mind, “Do you think he got out in time?”

Nightwing could have sworn that Batman sighed before saying, “We were out on patrol for almost an hour before the calls came in.  There is no reason to think he wasn’t doing the same thing.”

“You better be right.  Losing him once was enough.  I can’t lose him again.”

Their attention was called back to the building as some internal structure creaked and groaned as fire ate away at its stability, before it gave way and came down with a mighty crash.  Fire still shot from every window, despite the fire fighters’ best efforts to knock it down.

Batman gave another almost invisible sigh.  “We should start looking for him.  He might not even know yet.”

“Where do you want to start looking?” Nightwing asked.

“He should be somewhere close.  You can’t sound an alarm in Crime Alley without Hood knowing about it.”

Both vigilantes started scanning the skyline until Nightwing gasped and tapped Batman on the shoulder.

“What,” Batman asked.

“He knows,” Nightwing said, depression tinging his tone.

Nightwing pointed to a roofline a couple buildings over.  Standing six stories higher than their current position was Red Hood.  He stood on the edge of the building, watching as his home burned to the ground.  Flames flickered and reflected off of his helmet, and his normally brown wardrobe was tinged orange from the spectacle.  He seemed transfixed by the sight.

Nightwing wanted to go to his brother, but Batman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.  “Give him time.  He knows we’re here.  He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

Nightwing stared at the younger man for several minutes before he was able to read the message in Hood’s posture.  He said sadly, “No, Batman, he won’t.  Not anytime soon, at least.”

Batman watched the fire for another minute before turning his face up to look at his second son.  Even from this distance, Batman could see the hooded man sigh before slowly turning away and walking out of sight.

 

**A/N:  Here is the first chapter of my next endeavor.  It is planned for seven chapters, and I’m quite happy with where I see it going in my mind.  There may be some of my signature extended gaps in posting, because I will be moving in a couple weeks and I still need to pack and get all of that crap going.  We’ll see what happens.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	2. 2

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 2

(Warning: Jason is not in the best frame of mind in this chapter, and his language gets a bit coarse.  You’ve been warned.)

 

The blast had been deafening, even from five blocks away.  Red Hood’s head had snapped in that direction in time to see the fireball that had grown over Crime Alley.  He had been in the process of apprehending a man he caught holding up a liquor store.  When the blast went off, the criminal tried to make a run for it.  Not knowing anything was wrong, more than a large explosion, Hood followed the man for a block before he caught up with the fleeing criminal and made him regret ever thinking that running was a good idea.

Working his way north, a fearful feeling made its way into Red Hood’s gut as he realized the fire was coming from Alder Avenue.  He jumped on his motorcycle and sped in the direction of his home to check it out.

Red Hood drove slowly down Alder Avenue to find the last thing he hoped to see.  The formerly yellow painted building of his home was fully engulfed in flame, now coloring the entire block in a flickering orange.  He stopped across the street and watched for a minute as neighbors came out of adjacent apartments to watch the fire.  He distinctly noticed no one coming out of his building.  Hood had to stop himself from both taking off his helmet in shock, and from running into the flaming building to check for survivors.  He knew, deep down, with the size and intensity of the blaze, that anyone who was still able to get out was already out.

Unwilling to stand, disguised, in a crowd of his neighbors, while his home burned down, Red Hood gunned his motorcycle and took off down the street.  He didn’t go far, though.  Just far enough to swing down the next block.  Hood parked his bike in an alley and climbed to the roof of the tallest building in the general vicinity of his flaming home.  From this commanding view, Red Hood surveyed the block he called home.  Distant sirens could be heard as fire crews responded to the several calls made to report a conflagration.

Hood looked down at the gathered crowd and saw many people on cell phones.  They were all either calling the authorities, or taking pictures and videos of the event.  Even from this height, he could recognize several familiar neighbors.  He took a minute to scan the crowd, only to find a distinct lack of people from his building.  Hood had to blink several times as the lack of the familiar faces caused heat to rise behind his eyes.  He blinked away the offending moisture.  This wasn’t the time for sorrows; it was a time for investigation.

A second, small explosion blew out part of the building’s roof.  The surprise of the second blast caused the gathered crowd to scream and run to safer vantage points.  It also caused Red Hood to flinch and turn away from the spectacle for the first time in several minutes.  His head turned towards the north, and he was only slightly startled to see the Bat-Signal reflecting off of a high cloud.  Hood sighed, wondering just how long it would be before some part of his extended family showed up.  He was very territorial of his home, going so far in the past as to hold a gun to Nightwing’s head for encroaching on his sovereign territory.  Like always, his older brother had forgiven him and apologized, when Hood was the one who felt he really should have been the one to apologize for his actions.

Strangely, the thought of Nightwing showing up next to him within the next few minutes wasn’t an unwelcome one.  Even Batman’s solid presence could help to make sense of the emotions swirling through him currently.

A light breeze brought his attention back to the burning building, as a smell that was quite different from enflamed wood and plaster assaulted his nose.  _What the fuck?  That smells like…I lived with these people for years, how the hell did one of them start a Meth lab without me knowing about it?  Real good, Hood; very observant.  How the hell could I have missed that?  Those chemicals are strong.  Whoever it was must have been cooking during the day, when everyone was out of the building.  That’s ballsy.  They must have been desperate for money, to risk cooking Meth in a residential neighborhood, patrolled by the toughest cops the GCPD can come up with during the day, and me at night._

A new, embarrassing thought crossed his mind.  _Batman will smell that immediately.  He’s going to want to know just how well I’ve been patrolling my area, if a Meth lab can be set up in my home without me knowing it.  Holy shit, this night just keeps going from bad to worse.  Those fucking Replacements are never going to let me live this down, and Batman is going to be pissed when I kick the shit out of the first one of them who tries to rub it in.  I need time to think this through._

Fire crews were on scene and throwing everything they had at the blaze, but Red Hood knew, as the fire fighters did, that there was nothing that could be done to save the building.  As more fire trucks arrived, they started spraying down the adjacent buildings, in the hopes of keeping the blaze confined to just the one building.

Movement on the roof two buildings over caught Red Hood’s eye.  He turned to see Nightwing standing on the top of another apartment building, watching the fire with the same astonished look as the residents standing on the street below.  It was obvious that Nightwing hadn’t seen Red Hood; he was still on the other building, instead of next to Hood, trying to hug him.

Hood turned back to the fire and watched for another minute.  He wasn’t going to let Nightwing know where he was just yet; he just wasn’t ready for the coddling that he knew the man would send his way.  Hood knew that if he let himself feel anything other than anger right now, it would probably sideline him for days, and he had too much to get out of his system right now.

The next time he glanced over at his brother, Red Hood found Batman standing next to Nightwing.  He could see their mouths moving, and toyed with the idea of activating his radio receiver to hear what they were saying.  He didn’t, and instead thought of leaving the area, before they both dragged him back to the cave.  Idly, he wondered where the Replacements were, but it was a fleeting thought as the collapse of some internal structure of the building caught his attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, Red Hood saw Batman and Nightwing scanning the skyline.  He realized that they were starting a search for him.  The only problem was that he didn’t want to be found right now.  _If they don’t see me, then they won’t stop searching until the do.  If they see how close I am, they might come over here and try to talk to me.  The way I’m feeling right now, I might shoot one of them if they did that.  Damn it, Nightwing found me.  Here he…wait, did Batman just stop him?  Why did he do that?_

Realization dawned on Red Hood in the instant before Batman turned his face to look up at the younger vigilante.  _He wants me to come to him.  That’s arrogant of him.  Or, is it?  For as much as I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, I think I want them to at least try.  This is an extremely personal moment, maybe Batman doesn’t want that breaking through masks?  I think he’s doing this for me.  He’s letting me make my own choices in what happens next.  It’s obvious what Nightwing and Bruce want me to do, but what does Batman want me to do?  What does Red Hood want to do?  What does Jason want to do?  Fuck, this is a hard one.  I was ready to be dragged back to the Manor, complaining all the way.  I don’t know if I’m ready to be given the decision to make on my own.  I think Bruce just broke through Batman.  He wants this to be my choice.  That way, none of them can be blamed when…if, damn it…I return to the Manor._

Red Hood sighed heavily at the choice weighed on his mind.  He turned from the flaming remains of his home and walked to the other side of the building.  Climbing down into the alley, he was surprised to find that the Batmobile wasn’t parked next to his motorcycle.  Shaking his head, Red Hood revved up the engine and rode off into the night.

Three hours of aimless riding later, Hood found himself sitting on the top of a cargo container at the Gotham Docks, staring out at the water.  His thoughts were still no clearer than they were when he was staring at his burning home, the image of which would forever be imprinted on his retinas.

During his ride, Hood’s thought’s had turned dark.  _What am I supposed to do now?  I don’t have any place to go.  Well, I have one, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to do that.  What kind of welcome will await me there?  What kind of welcome do I deserve?  I don’t want to talk about what happened tonight, but I don’t want to be pitied, either.  I am_ not _an object of pity.  I didn’t cause that explosion.  I was five blocks away when it happened.  So, why do I feel so guilty about it?_

Red Hood cradled his head in his hands.  _How was someone able to sneak a meth lab into the building without me knowing?  I know I don’t spend as much time there as I used to, now that I’m getting along better with Bruce.  Is that it?  Is this his fault?  Or, is it mine, for not watching my territory more closely?  It’s just a fact.  I don’t spend as much time in Crime Alley as I used to, now that I have an actual job.  Patrols are being cut short, so I can appear to be awake at work.  So, it’s my fault?  I haven’t been doing my job, so that I can do my job.  How many people died tonight, because I felt like earning a paycheck?_

The sun was breaking over the horizon now, orange-yellow light pushing back the inky black and purple of night and pre-dawn.  The old reflex to get out of sight before the dawn was awakened in the vigilante.  _I need to get home, except that my home is now a smoldering ruin, and probably crawling with police.  I can’t sit here all day, and the only other place I have to go is the last place I should go.  I have to go somewhere.  That’s a lot of pride to swallow, to walk through that front door.  I go there, I can’t leave.  I have to suck it up, because there is nowhere else for me to go.  I have to control myself a lot more than I think I’m capable of right now, but I don’t see that I have another choice._

Mind only partially made up, Red Hood began the long journey across town.

After another three hours of circuitous riding, to lose any potential tails, Red Hood came to a halt in the Bat Cave.  Taking a deep breath, Jason shut off the bike and pulled his Hood off.  Fresh, cool air caressed his face for the first time in close to twelve hours, and the familiar smells of the subterranean space were able to drive the smell of smoke from his sinuses for just a short time.

The cave appeared to be deserted, so Jason headed to the locker room for a long shower.  Even though he knew he shouldn’t have been, he was surprised to find a set of pajamas laid out on the bench for him.  _Did Bruce tell Alfred that I would be coming eventually, or did Alfred just do another one of his butler miracles and intuit that I would show up._  Entering the shower, the familiar post-patrol fatigue set in.  _I’m too tired to think about that right now._

Jason stopped as he exited the locker room and hung his head.  “Damn.  Were you sitting there the whole time?  What are you even doing home?”

Bruce stared gently back at his second son from his computer chair.  “I’ve been waiting for you.  I wasn’t down here when you came in, but I figured…hoped…that you would eventually show up.”

“Why are you even here?  Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Bruce gave half a grin and said, “It’s Saturday.”

Another frustrated breath left Jason’s mouth as he took another few steps closer to Bruce.  “I suppose that means that everyone is home?”

“They are now,” Bruce said, rising and approaching Jason.

Jason’s hand stopped Bruce before the man could pull Jason into the hug he intended to deliver.  “I don’t want to talk about what happened last night, Bruce.”

Bruce sighed and said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to, Jason.  Eventually.  We don’t have to talk about it now, but we will have to talk.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Going to rub it in, Bruce?  Going to give me a lecture about paying better attention to my surroundings?  I didn’t know, okay?  What the hell do you want from me?”

Bruce took half a step back and held up his hands placatingly, “That’s not what we were going to talk about, but if you want to, we can.”

“I can’t go there right now.  Right now, there is nothing we need to talk about.  I just want to be left alone for a while.”  Jason turned to head for the stairs, but only made it two steps before turning around and saying, “And let me tell you this, keep your whelps in check.  I promise you that the first one of them who makes some dumbass remark to me is losing teeth.”

Jason turned again and stopped as he came face to face with Alfred.  The butler looked past Jason to Bruce and said, “Master Bruce, you have a call.  It is Detective Montoya, of the Gotham Police.”

Bruce approached and took the phone from the butler, who then turned to address Jason.  “Need I remind you to watch your language while you are under this roof, Master Jason?”

Jason started to glare at the old man, but lost the will to fight quickly.  His shoulders fell as he said, “No, Alfred.”

“Very well.”  Alfred took a step forward and pulled Jason into a brief, but tight hug.  He whispered to the younger man, “I’m sorry for what happened last night.  You must be quite torn up about it.”

Jason returned the hug and whispered back, “You have no idea, Alfred.  Tell me, what kind of reception am I in for when I go upstairs?”

“What kind of reception would you like, Master Jason?”

Jason took half a step backwards and said, “One like the one when I came for dinner two weeks ago would be nice.”

Alfred looked confused, “And what was so special about that night?”

“Nothing.  No mention of my presence was made.  I was just there.  I’m not in the mood to be answering all sorts of questions, or to talk about my feelings.  I’m just…here.”

“Then that’s how it shall be, Master Jason.”

Their attention was caught by Bruce’s conversation.  “Yes, Detective Montoya, this is Bruce Wayne.”

“Mr. Wayne, I’m afraid there has been a devastating fire last night,” the female voice said kindly through the phone.

“Oh?  I hadn’t heard about any fire.  Was it one of my holdings?” Bruce asked, playing up his lack of knowledge of a fire that he witnessed.

The voice on the line responded, “No, Mr. Wayne.  An apartment building burned down last night in Crime Alley.”

Bruce sounded confused, even though he wasn’t.  “I don’t get it.  Why are you telling me this?  I don’t own any apartment buildings, and I certainly don’t have any business or personal holdings in Crime Alley.”

“Mr. Wayne, the apartment building at 1135 Alder Avenue burned down last night.  We spoke to the building manager this morning, to get a list of tenants, to look for survivors.”

“My god,” Bruce gasped, “It was that bad?”

“Yes, sir.  You are listed as the next of kin for the resident of apartment 2A, a Jason Todd.  He is currently missing, Mr. Wayne.  I’m sorry to have to be the one to inform you of that.”

Bruce looked over at Jason, with a pleasant feeling warming his heart.  It meant something special to Bruce that Jason would list him as next of kin.  “That’s tragic, but unnecessary.  You see, Jason is right here.  He came home with us yesterday afternoon, after work.  He was going to spend the weekend here.  He hasn’t been at his apartment for a couple days, I think.”

The officer on the other side of the line sounded surprised, “He’s there?  May I speak with him please?  I need to confirm this, so he can be taken off of the missing list.”

“Of course.”

Bruce approached a hesitant-looking Jason and said softly, making sure to cover the phone with his hand, “They think you’re dead.  I told them you weren’t.  Remember how long it took you to be declared alive, and be nice.  Also, be somewhat shocked when she tells you that the building is gone.  You’ve been here for a couple days.”

Jason took the phone from Bruce and spoke into the receiver.  “This is Jason Todd.”

A relieved sigh was heard from the other end.  “Mr. Todd, I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but there was a fire last night at 1135 Alder Avenue.  I’m sorry to say that the building is a total loss.”

Jason gasped.  The response was only partly acting.  “What?  What happened?”

“That’s currently under investigation.  Right now, I’m just compiling information.  When was the last time you were at the building?”

Jason looked at Bruce and said, “Thursday morning, before work.  I worked an early shift.  I had to be there at six.  I went out to dinner with Bruce after that, and stayed here Thursday night.  I had been planning on going back to the apartment tonight, but…”

“I understand, Mr. Todd.  Well, it is a relief to find that you are okay.”

Jason asked hesitantly, “Were…are there any other survivors?”

“Right now, you are the only one we have been able to locate.”  Detective Montoya caught Jason’s involuntary sniffle and said, “The department can offer you a counselor to help deal with the loss of your neighbors, if you think that would help you, Mr. Todd.  I know I would be shook up if my neighbors were suddenly gone.”

Jason took a deep breath, mentally kicking himself for letting an honest reaction to the news out, while at the same time accepting that, if he sounded shook up at the news, the police were less likely to ask too many questions.  “Thank you, Detective Montoya, but I will be okay.  I just need some time.”

“Of course, Mr. Todd, and I’m glad that you’re alive.  Take care.”

The line went dead as the call disconnected.  Alfred gently took the phone from Jason’s numb grip, shot a look to Bruce, and left the cave.  Bruce led Jason to the computer chair and sat him down.  He knelt in front of his second son and waited for the man to make the first move.

_So, I really am the only survivor.  I figured I was when I didn’t see anyone from the building in the crowd last night, but to have it confirmed…  I don’t know how to take this.  I’ve dealt with death before, but never of people that I liked.  I didn’t feel like this when my parents died, why do I feel this way now?  Maybe it’s because those people were better than my parents?_

Jason raised his head and met Bruce’s eyes.  Bruce was shocked at just how lost Jason looked.  Jason looked away before whispering, “They’re all gone.  I’m the only survivor of the fire.”

Jason leaned forward, and was collected in a soft hug.  He laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder and let himself be vulnerable for just under a minute.  Then, he pushed himself away from Bruce, saying, “No.  I can’t do that.  I need to be…away…alone.”

Jason stood quickly and headed towards his motorcycle.  “Where will you go, Jason,” Bruce said softly.

“I just need to go…to be…”  Jason trailed off, unable to express himself.

“You can’t run from this, Jason.  It will be there, waiting for you, when you stop.  And you can’t keep running forever.  Don’t go, son.”

Jason stopped for a second, before turning and running up the stairs.  Bruce let him go, sighing internally, relieved that Jason chose to stay.

Upstairs, Jason ran into Tim, as the younger man was leaving his room to head for a snack.  Tim didn’t have time to look surprised at the sudden appearance of his older brother.  Jason grabbed a handful of Tim’s shirt and dragged him across the hall.

Jason threw open the door to Damian’s room, somewhat surprised to find the boy in bed.  Too confused to do anything but follow his original plan, Jason flung Tim towards the youth’s bed and shouted, “I am not in the mood for any bullshit from either of you.  I just can’t take any of it right now.  So, what the two of you are going to do is stay the fuck out of my way.  If you value your lives in the least, leave me alone!”

Jason left his confused younger siblings to stare at his wake as he swept from the room and slammed the door behind him.  He leaned against the portal for a second before a new voice broke into his mind.

“They weren’t going to do anything, Jay.  They know what happened last night.  You may not believe this, but when I talked to them last night, the last thing on either of their minds was to make a smart remark to you.  In fact, both of them asked if there was anything they could do for you.  I told them already that the best thing either of them could do was to stay out of your way.  You didn’t need to remind them of something they already knew, and you definitely didn’t need to slam the door.”

Jason glared at Dick as he approached.  Just before Dick could lay his outstretched hand on Jason’s shoulder, Jason pushed off the wall and walked across the hall to his bedroom.  Knowing that Dick would follow him, no matter what he did, Jason left the door open for the older brother.

Dick gave a weak grin as he stood in the doorway.  Jason had flopped down on his bed, and was wishing it wasn’t so comfortable.  He didn’t want to be comfortable right now; he wanted to be miserable.  He heard the door close behind Dick as Dick walked up and sat on the edge of the bed.  “Talk to me, Little Brother.”

“They’re all gone, Dick,” Jason said in a voice muffled by his pillow.

A hand appeared on his back, rubbing comforting circles into his knotted muscles.  “I’m sorry, Jay.  I know how much you liked them.  Criminals are going to do what criminals are going to do.  This isn’t your fault.”

“Then why does it feel like my fault?  Why does it feel like I should have been able to stop this?”

“Because this is a tragedy, and part of our night work is preventing tragedies.  It doesn’t help anything that this is a personal tragedy.  You knew these people.  You lived with these people.  You got to know them as more than just neighbors.”

The room was quiet for several minutes.  Dick thought Jason had fallen asleep when he said in a weak voice, “Melissa, upstairs.  I babysat her little girl when she had to work late sometimes.  She called me Uncle Jason.  Phillip, across the hall, had to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  Always had a smile for everyone he met.  Mr. Bronson, lived across from Melissa.  He was a war hero.  He would tell his stories to anyone who would listen.  He had two bronze stars, three purple hearts, and two citations for conspicuous gallantry for his time in Korea.  He just had his first great-grandchild, and was looking forward to meeting her next month.  These weren’t just names on a registry, these were people, Dick.  These were my friends.”

Dick’s hands were squeezing Jason’s shoulders, trying to relieve some tension.  “I know.  You’ve talked about them before.  I know they were special to you.  Tell me, would you want them this broken up about you if you were the one lost, instead of them?”

“Maybe for a little while, but I would want them to move on with their lives.”

Dick nodded, “Then that’s what you should do.  Remember them, treasure them for who they were and what you meant to each other, then, move on.  By all means, grieve for them.  That’s the healthy way to go, but don’t let it eat you up so much that all you do is think about them.  You need to live your life, just as much as they would want you to live your life.”

Jason sighed, “Why are you so good at this, Dick?”

Dick laid himself across Jason’s back for a few seconds in a makeshift hug, “Too much practice, Jay.  Too much practice.”

Silence reigned for another couple minutes.  Dick’s hands had returned to his brother’s shoulders in a comforting massage.  Finally, Jason rolled over, his face damp, and asked a question that had been bothering him.  “Dick?  Why is the Brat still in bed?  I know its Saturday, but how did he get away with sleeping in this late?”

Dick tempered the glare that wanted to find its way onto his face at the use of the nickname for Damian.  He chalked it up to Jason’s distraught frame of mind and said, “He’s going to be there for a while.  There was more than one fire last night.”

Jason looked confused, so Dick continued.  “We’ve been tracking Firefly for over a week now.  Damian came the closest anyone has been to him since this search started, but there were…consequences.  Numerous cuts and scrapes, and a concussion, are sidelining Robin for a while.”

Jason nodded and said, “Oh, so…”

Dick gave a small smile, “So, all the yelling and slamming of doors probably made the headache he was complaining of at breakfast a whole lot worse.  If he didn’t like you, and if his head wasn’t throbbing, he would probably be planning some sort of revenge right now.  It’s a good thing for you that he knows what went on last night, and doesn’t want to make anything worse.  Remember, he asked you to move back in last year.  He isn’t going to do anything to upset you.”

“And Replacement?”

Dick shrugged, “Nothing wrong with him, as far as I know.”

Jason thought for another minute, his mind starting to clear a bit after his talk with his brother.  “Is that why you responded to a fairly insignificant building fire, because you’ve been chasing Firefly?”

_Good, little brother.  Get your mind on something else, it will help._   “Yeah.  We were staking out a chemical factory, a refinery, and a lumber yard last night, looking for our least favorite fire bug.  Firefly hit a gas station in Gotham Heights the same time your apartment caught fire.  The Robins went to investigate that, while Bats and I headed your way.”

“Wait,” Jason looked confused, “Bruce let Little Shit out of his sight during an arson investigation?  Has he become that relaxed about his own flesh and blood?”

“That was my doing,” Dick replied.  “Once we got the addresses of the fires, I knew that having Tim or Damian near your burning home was the last thing you needed.  I was the closest one to your place.  Bruce was originally going to send Damian to meet up with me, while he went to meet Tim.  I talked him out of it.”

Jason considered what he was hearing and nodded.  “Th…thanks for that.  You’re right, I wouldn’t have liked seeing him there last night.  Thanks for letting Batsy stop you last night, too.  I…I needed to clear my head.  It wouldn’t have turned out well if you had tried to carry me home, which I know you wanted to do.”

Dick tried to hide his grin at Jason calling the manor home, but failed.  “I don’t care how you got here, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Jason yawned and laid his head back on his pillow.  “Go away now, Dick.  I’m tired.”

Dick smiled and squeezed Jason’s shoulder as he stood.  “You know where I am, if you need me.”

_Several hours later…_

His head was still pounding, but Damian was bored with lying in bed all day.  Bruce and Alfred had restricted him from all strenuous activity until his concussion symptoms cleared, and for once, he agreed with both the diagnosis and prescription.  _Maybe Father won’t yell at me too much if I just go and lay on the couch in the den?_

Closing his bedroom door silently, Damian turned, gasped in shock, and flattened himself against the wall.  Jason, on his way downstairs for dinner, had stopped and watched as the youth seemed to be sneaking out of his room.

“Nervous much, Demon Brat?”

The name rankled, but Damian let it slide, as Dick had begged him the night before.  “I figured Pennyworth would be the one on guard to keep me in my room.  I…”

Damian trailed off, knowing he was pushing his luck as it was.  Jason’s look changed to one of introspection, as he asked, “You…what?”

Still pressing himself hard against the wall, his head still pounding, Damian said cautiously, “I have something to say to you, Todd, but I don’t think I can take anymore head trauma right now.  Black eyes are no fun.”

Jason considered the thoughtful tone in the youth’s voice and said, “Take your best shot, you are safe from black eyes.  I promised Bruce that I would be going for teeth, not eyes.  Before you say anything, though, let me know if you have any baby teeth left, and where they are.  When I punch you, I will aim at knocking those out for you.”

Damian stared into Jason’s eyes for close to a minute, judging intent, before he heaved a small sigh and started in.  _Maybe punching me will help him feel better, so here goes._   “What happened last night was terrible.  I can understand why you would think I would make some remark about your pain, but I’m not going to do that.  I have no reason to do something like that.  I…you’re staying, right?”

Jason cocked his head.  _Is he asking me if I’m moving back in?  And if he is, why does he sound almost excited about that?_   “For the time being, at least.”

Damian nodded slightly, the small movement causing a small wave of nausea.  “Well, I…I’m sorry it had to happen this way,” the boy said slowly, “but I’m…content that you decided to come here.  You…you need to be here, with the rest of us.”

Jason was stunned at what he was hearing.  _Did the Demon Brat just say he wants me here?  I know Dick said he was talking about family more.  I just figured he wouldn’t count me in that anymore.  Damian did ask me to move home last year.  Who knew he was serious?_

Damian flinched hard as Jason’s arm rose towards the boy.  Jason smirked as he threw an arm around Damian’s shoulders and said, “Thanks, Short Stuff.”

They walked downstairs, Damian confused by the transformation in his older brother in just a few hours.  _I guess we both misjudged each other.  I can live with ‘Short Stuff’, I guess.  At least it’s better than ‘Demon Brat’._

 


	3. 3

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 3

 

“Timothy?”

The young man turned to look at Bruce as he entered the cave.  “Hey, Bruce.”

Bruce walked over to the computer as Tim stood up.  “It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon outside.  What are you doing underground?”

Tim yawned and stretched, not realizing he had been down in the cave since just after his early breakfast.  “Trying to figure something out.  It’s been bugging me since Friday.”

Bruce looked confused and asked, “What’s been bothering you, son?  Let’s see if we can figure it out together, so you can enjoy some time in the sun.”

Tim cocked his head.  “Is that where everyone else is?  Enjoying time in the sun?”

“Dick is on the phone with Wally, I think.  Alfred took Jason clothes shopping.  He didn’t have much here, and most of it doesn’t fit anymore.  They are going to stop and pick up his truck on the way home.  Damian is taking a nap in his little hideout.”

Tim smiled at the description.  “Does he still think we don’t know about his office, or study, or whatever he calls it?”

“He hasn’t said anything about it, and no one has said anything to him about it, so I’m pretty sure he still thinks he is in the clear.”

Tim looked at Bruce strangely, “How do you feel about that?”

Bruce shrugged, “So long as he isn’t locking himself away there, I really don’t care that he has a place to get away every so often.  He isn’t the first kid in this house to do that.  Hell, if it’s where Dick thinks it is, then it isn’t too far from my childhood hiding place.”

Tim considered the familial similarity with a non-committal ‘Hmm’.  Bruce looked back at the computer and asked, “So, what’s been bothering you?”

“This.” Tim led Bruce across the cave to a table.  The jetpack that was recovered as evidence was laying on the surface.  Bruce could see that Tim had been tinkering with the flying pack.

“Talk me through your thought process, Tim.”

Tim held up various components for Bruce to examine before beginning his explanation.  “As you can see, this wasn’t cobbled together out of spare parts and scraps.  This is a purpose-built machine.”

Bruce smiled, “Well, of course it is.  It’s a jetpack.  You don’t end up with a jetpack while trying to make a toaster, or a bed from Ikea.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “That wasn’t exactly the point I was trying to make, Bruce.  These components are not off-the-shelf, one-size-fits-all devices.  Everything in here is meant to be exactly where it is.  Look at these circuit boards.”

Tim held up the green, silicon chips.  Bruce took one from his son’s hand and examined it closely.  Wondering if he was seeing what Tim wanted him to see, Bruce turned on the tabletop magnifying light and took a closer look.  The board was intricately printed, and the components were embedded in tight, even configurations.  The board itself was cut in a curving shape, instead of the standard square or rectangle, to fit better in the casing of the jetpack.  It was obviously a high-end piece, and Bruce could see what had attracted Tim’s attention.

“It’s an impressive circuit board, Tim.”

“Notice anything peculiar about it?”

Bruce looked up and said, “Not particularly, but obviously you do.  What is so peculiar about it?”

Tim took the board back and positioned it carefully under the magnifying glass.  “Look at the edges carefully.  What do you see?”

Bruce looked again, “I suppose the obvious answer of curves, instead of straight edges, is not what you’re getting at?”

“There are no trademarks.  Standard printed circuit boards have markings on the edges.  They will usually tell the manufacturer, creation date, and some product information.  Those markings are not present on these boards.  I’ve ripped almost all of the boards out of this jetpack; not one of them has any identifying marks.”

Bruce took a closer look and saw that the young man was right.  “I hope you marked them in some way, so we can put this thing back together.”

Tim rolled his eyes.  “Of course I made diagrams, Bruce.  Even if this is evidence in a crime spree, it’s still a jetpack.  I plan on giving it a go when this case is over.”

Bruce threw a stern look at his son.  “I don’t think so, young man.”

“Aw, come on, Bruce.  It’s a _jetpack_!  How can we have something like this sitting around and not make use of it?  How many times did I make you sit through The Rocketeer when I was a kid?  It’s a terrible movie, but jetpacks are cool.”

“Getting back to the topic,” Bruce said before Tim could try another tactic to aim at a jetpack ride, “No identifying marks?  What does that say to you?”

Tim grimaced at the change of subject, but returned to the initial inquiry.  “What it says to me is government, or military.  I’ve got some inquiries out to some sources in the military, to see if there are any jetpack-related projects going on recently.”

Bruce looked up quizzically.  “Anything like that would be top secret information.  What makes you think your sources would just hand over information like that?”

Tim looked uncomfortable at the question and said, “I’m going to stick with the explanation of the less you know about that, the better.  My informant is in a position to know things like that, and I am owed several massive favors.  The information passed my way has always been reliable in the past.”

Bruce surprised Tim and gave the younger man a beaming smile.  “I think I’m okay with that explanation.  I’m always telling Dick that he needs to cultivate his own contacts.  I’m glad that you learned that lesson without me needing to harp on it.”

Tim returned the smile, “That is the benefit of being the younger brother.  I get to learn from Dick’s and Jason’s mistakes, so I don’t make the same ones.  Damian gets to learn from all three of us.  If you ever have another kid, or another Robin, that one should be perfect.  I think, between the four of us, we’ve made every mistake under the sun.”

Bruce paled at the thought of taking on a fifth partner, but said, “Believe me, there are mistakes that you can’t even fathom yet.  I’ve made them; that’s why I’m so hard on all of you.  The last thing I want is all of you turning out like me.”

Tim approached and hugged Bruce tightly.  “You’re not so bad,” Tim whispered.  “Don’t let Damian hear you talking like that, though.  I think his goal in life is to be _exactly_ like you, and if it isn’t, it should be.  He is already heading in that direction.”

Realizing that it had been far too long in between hugs from his third son, Bruce held the young man for longer than necessary.  It had the effect of leaving a smile on Tim’s face.  “Well,” Bruce whispered, “maybe he can be a _little_ like me.  I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Tim agreed.  “What _might_ be the worst thing, though, is if we don’t figure out where this came from.  It’s possible that Firefly had this sitting in storage for years, and just broke it out for this recent arson wave, but I don’t think so.  Everything looks too new.  I’m not finding any corrosion on any of the internal parts.  A couple moving parts even have fresh oil on them, so we know this has been maintained recently.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Why are you assuming an outside connection for this piece of machinery?  Why can’t he have made this himself?”

“I initially thought that, too, but it just wasn’t panning out.  How many times have you had dealings with Firefly?”

“Too many times,” Bruce grumbled.  “I had hoped this last prison sentence would last for a little while longer, but it seems he’s learned how to game the system to win points for early release.  I think, when we catch him this time, he will have to be moved up to Arkham, instead of Blackgate.”

Tim nodded.  “And, in all of our past meetings, did he ever show a talent for this level of sophisticated engineering?  I admit, it’s hard to judge what he’s capable of when he limits his crimes to something as simple as arson.  At most, Firefly displays a talent for chemistry, but there is nothing in his file to suggest engineering talents.  He may have been able to _assemble_ something like this, if he was given the tools and detailed instructions, but I doubt he could design and create something like this.”

Bruce was silent for close to two minutes as he rounded the table, taking in the disassembled jetpack from all angles.  “That is a plausible hypothesis.  Where does it lead?”

“Someone is pulling his strings.  I think that someone is supplying equipment to Firefly, in order to hit a specific list of targets.”

Bruce looked up, able to hide most of the shock he felt at that comment.  “What makes you think the list of targets isn’t random?”

“I didn’t, at first,” Tim admitted, “Then, I plugged them into the computer, to see if there were any similarities that weren’t apparent at first glance, and I found something interesting.”

Tim and Bruce walked back to the Bat Computer, where Tim sat down in the chair.  Bruce stood next to it with a hand on Tim’s shoulder.  They had solved many crimes this way during Tim’s Robin days, and both of them were greatly enjoying the nostalgia.

“I wrote a program a couple years ago to look for pattern in crimes.  You enter as much information as you have, and it generates a list of possible targets and possible perpetrators.”

Bruce grinned, “I remember.  It’s an amazing program, Tim, but you never did tell me what caused you to write it.”

Tim turned in the chair.  “While you were…away…we came up against a mysterious rash of crimes that were only tangentially related.  It took us far too long to figure out what the criminals were actually doing, and their future plans.”

“You’re talking about the Oshimaida Affair?”

Tim sighed, “Yes.  A lot of things happened in that investigation that never should have happened, if we were able to connect the dots sooner.  I wrote this program to make that happen.  We’ve had good luck with it since, so I thought I would try with what we have in this case.”

Bruce patted Tim’s shoulder and said, “We’ve had more than good luck.  As I remember it, that program has never been wrong.”

Tim looked hesitant to continue after Bruce’s remark.  Bruce cocked his head and asked gently, “What is it, son?”

“Bruce, this is one time where I hope the program is wrong.”

“I don’t get it.”

Tim closed his eyes before hitting a key on the keyboard.  A group of photos arranged themselves on the screen.  “This is what the program came up with for possible persons of interest.”

Bruce looked at the faces on the screen with varying degrees of recognition and familiarity, until his gaze stopped on the last face.  Bruce paled as his jaw dropped.  He said quietly, “Run it again.”

“Bruce, it won’t change anything.”

“You don’t know that.  Run it again,” Bruce said harshly.

Tim took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”  He cleared the search and began entering variables.  “I’m only entering the addresses of the target locations and the method of destruction.  The program looks for similarities between all of them, and spits out a list of potential future targets and persons of interest.”

The cave fell into a tense silence for the minute it took for the results to be displayed.  Again, the same five faces were shown on the screen when the computer beeped.

“I can’t believe that,” Bruce whispered.

“I told you, running the test again wouldn’t make a difference.”

“How did you know that, Tim?”

Tim looked guiltily up at Bruce and said softly, “Because this is the seventh time I’ve run the test.  It’s been the same every time.”

Bruce looked back at the screen and tapped the one picture that was causing so much concern.  It blew up to cover the entire screen.  “How can this be?  I mean, seriously, how?  We know him.  This is impossible.”

“I agree, Bruce.”

Bruce continued, as if he hadn’t heard Tim, “This is completely out of character for him.  What could possibly be his motive?”

Tim stood and placed his hands on Bruce’s shoulders.  “I don’t like this any more than you do, Bruce, but the program has never been wrong before.  As much as we hate to admit it, Michael Abbey is a person of interest.”

“Michael Abbey is a person of interest in what?”

The new voice shocked the cave’s occupants into silence.  Both men looked over to see Damian walking up to the computer, his jaw dropping at the picture of his girlfriend’s father.  “What is that doing up there?”

“Damian, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“What is that doing up there, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce sighed, wondering how to make this easier for his son.  “We’ve been looking into possible explanations behind the arsons.  Tim ran the variables from the crimes through his crime program, and it gave us a list of potential persons of interest.  You really shouldn’t be down here, son.”

Damian waved the comment away, “I’m feeling better, Father.  Or, I was, until I saw that.  What is his possible motive?  What is tying him to these crimes?”

Bruce turned to Tim and said, “I was just about to ask that myself.  Tim, interpret these results.”

“Gladly.”  Tim was silent for several minutes while he pored over screen after screen of corroborating evidence.  “Okay.  It looks like there are several business interests involved here.  We all know Mr. Abbey is involved in oil.  The refinery that was burned a couple days ago was the main production facility of his main, in-town, business rival.  All three gas stations were supplied by a second business rival, who is sitting on a stockpile of product he can’t sell, because his customers don’t exist anymore.  Bruce, we should watch this guy’s supply depot as the next target.  That much fuel on hand could set a couple blocks on fire.”

“What about the lumber yard?  Where does that fit in with a dispute between oilmen,” Damian asked harshly.

Tim hit a few more keys and said, “It looks like the lumber yard was contracted by a third business rival to supply building material to retrofit structures at an oil field just north of the city.  They had already paid for the materials, but not taken delivery.  They are losing contracts and employees because they can’t make the planned improvements now for a while.”

“What does all of this have to do with Mr. Abbey?”

Tim took a deep breath and turned to look compassionately at Damian.  “All of Mr. Abbey’s holdings have been spared.  His businesses have taken on the extra burden of more demand coming his way.  He is set to make a tidy profit off of his competitor’s misfortunes.  Now, either Mike Abbey is a criminal mastermind, or someone is setting him up to look like a criminal mastermind.”

Damian sneered, “And your wonderful program can’t tell you which it is?”

Tim shook his head, “Not until we have more evidence.”

Damian turned to look at Bruce.  “You’re going to interrogate him, aren’t you?”

Bruce looked down, saddened, “I don’t see where I have any other choice, Damian.”

“I’m going with you.  I want to be there when you do it.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said, shaking his head.  “Even if you weren’t still recovering from injuries, don’t you think it might be possible that he would recognize you?”

Damian hadn’t thought of that.  _I guess there is something to be said for those cowls, after all.  He commented on the length of my hair the last time I saw him, there is no way he wouldn’t recognize that._ “He’s your _friend_ , Father.  Do you really want to do this?”

“Not particularly, no.  The sooner we do it, the sooner we can eliminate him from our list of suspects.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Suspects?  What happened to person of interest?”

Bruce winced, “Sorry, son.  Slip of the tongue.”

Damian asked exasperatedly, “Why are you even entertaining this as a possibility, Father?  There is no way he is involved.”

“We have to follow all leads, Damian, no matter how much we don’t like them.”

Damian was growing desperate.  He turned to Tim and said, “This is all coming from your program, right?  Run it again.”

Tim sighed, “I’ve run it seven times already, Damian.  It has come up with the same answers every time.”

“Then we’re missing something!”  Damian turned from the men in the cave and whispered, “Why do you want to ruin this for me?  I love Robin, and you want to treat her father like a criminal.  What do you think will happen if they ever figure out who we are?”

“It probably won’t be pretty, Damian,” Bruce said, coming up to stand behind his son, and placing a hand on his shoulder.  “If there is something to it, though, wouldn’t you rather know now?  I promise, I’ll go easy on him.”

“Easy for you, or easy for Batman?”

“I’m just going to question him.  We have to follow this lead, just to prove once and for all that he’s innocent.  The program has never been wrong before.”

The cave was quiet for just short of a minute.  “This is all coming from Drake’s crime analysis program?”

Tim spoke up, “You’ve used it before, Damian.  You’ve seen the results its come up with." 

Damian turned to Tim, his eyes blazing, and yelled, “I hate you, Drake, and your stupid program!”  Shaking Bruce’s hand off of his shoulder, Damian ran from the cave.

“Damian!” Bruce called after the boy, but he was already gone.

Bruce turned back to Tim, who didn’t look as upset as he figured he would.  “Tim, I’m sorry about that.  That was completely out of line.”

Tim sighed, “It’s okay, Bruce.  We knew he would take it bad from the second Mike’s picture popped up on the screen.”

“Still, that’s no reason for him to say that.”

Tim shook his head.  “He thinks he’s about to lose his first girlfriend, Bruce, and he is pretty sure that it will be you and I who drive her away.  He doesn’t know how to process that.  He’s just confused.  I know how he really feels about me.”

“You and I?” Bruce asked.

“You are not going to break into Mike Abbey’s house without me, Bruce.  Someone needs to be there to keep Batman in check.”

Bruce let out a harsh breath, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

_Meanwhile, upstairs…_

Damian ran through the house, trying to escape what was going to happen tonight.

_This can’t be happening.  Am I not allowed to be happy?  They are going to destroy everything tonight, and there is nothing I can do about it.  Damn it, why is this happening?_

Damian slammed the door to his bedroom behind him and flopped down on his bed, burying his head under his pillows.  _What can I do about this?  Can I disprove their theory before Batman interrogates Mr. Abbey?  How can Father even think he would have anything to do with an arson wave?  It is so far out of the realm of possibilities as to be laughable.  Wait,_ does _Father think he has something to do with this?  Now that I think about it, Father and Drake didn’t sound too happy about the results of the search.  Drake likes Mr. Abbey, too.  Maybe he will be able to keep Father from going too far._

A frustrated growl escaped the boy.  _Even if Father goes easy, like he said, there is still no way I will have a girlfriend after all this is done.  She doesn’t know that I’m Robin, but one day she might, and that day will probably be the last day I ever see her.  I should just enjoy the time we have left.  I need to talk to Robin._

Damian pushed the pillow off of his head and pulled his phone from his pocket.  He stared at the screen and let his finger run down the image of Robin’s face that served as his wallpaper.  He brought up her speed dial contact, but stopped his finger from touching the call icon.  _I need to talk to her, but what am I going to say?  ‘Hi Robin, have I told you how much I love you lately?  By the way, is your Father a master criminal in the making?  My Father is investigating him for having a part in the recent arson wave.  Oh, that’s right, I forgot to tell you, Father is Batman, and I’m Robin.’  I can’t do that.  After she calls to have us put away in either prison or the mental hospital, she’ll break up with me.  I…I don’t want to lose her._

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Damian pressed the call icon on the screen.  After five rings, just before the call went to voicemail, it was answered by a gruff, exasperated voice.

“Hello?”

 _That’s not Robin.  Did I call the wrong number?_   Damian checked the screen and saw Robin’s smiling face looking back from the screen, telling him that he had the right number.  “H…hello?”

“Who is this?”

 _What’s going on?  Who is this guy?_   “Who is this?  Isn’t this still Robin’s phone?”

“This is Mike Abbey.  Who is this, and why are you calling my daughter?”

Damian heaved a sigh.  _He sounds off._ “This is Damian, Mr. Abbey.  I was trying to reach Robin.  Is she available?”

The sigh heaved on the other end of the line was heavy enough that Damian felt it come through his speaker.  “Damian, yeah.  Look, I’m sorry, but Robin can’t talk now.”

“Why do you have her phone?  Is she okay?”

A muffled conversation in the background confused the boy.  Several muffled sounds later, a new voice came over the line.  “This is Detective Moon with the Gotham Police.  The call is being traced.  Who is this?”

 _Police?  What the hell is going on?_   “Damian Wayne, Detective Moon.  Where is Robin?”

“Wayne?  As in Bruce Wayne?”

“He’s my Father.  What’s going on, Detective?”

“We’ll get to that.  What are you calling for, Damian?” the officer asked suspiciously.

“I wanted to talk to Robin.  She’s my girlfriend.  I haven’t talked to her in days…I miss her.”

Another muffled conversation took place on the other end of the line, but Damian could hear what was said this time.

“Is this true, Mr. Abbey?”

“Yes, Detective.  I recognize his voice, and the caller ID came up with his picture.  Damian and Robin have been dating for several months.”

“Would he have any reason to want to kidnap your daughters?”

 _Kidnap?_ Tears sprang up in Damian’s eyes.  _Was Robin kidnapped?  What is going on?_

“He’s an honest kid.  He wouldn’t be calling, looking for her, if they were together.”

The phone was obviously handed back to Mike, because the voice was much louder when he spoke again.  “Damian, this isn’t the best time, right now.”

Damian could tell that the man was about to hang up without any explanation, so he said quickly, “Wait, Mr. Abbey.  Did the detective say kidnapped?  What happened?”

“Yes, he said kidnapped.  Gina and Robin were abducted from the front driveway on Friday.  They had just gotten home from the mall when some guys in a van grabbed them.  They dropped their cell phones and sped off.”

“ _No_.  That…that… _why?_ ”

Mike sounded close to tears himself as he talked to Damian.  “I wish I knew.  They called Gina’s phone last night and said they would call today with ransom demands.  I have to hang up, Damian.  We need to keep the lines open for when they call.”

Damian was sniffling as he said, “Is there anything we can do?  Father may be able to help.”

“Thank you, Damian.  If there is anything, I will call Bruce, but we don’t know anything until they make their demands.”

The call ended, and Damian shoved his face back into his pillow, screaming out his frustrations.  More confused than ever, Damian got up and double-timed it back to the cave.

Bruce and Tim were still working at the computer, trying to find any way to eliminate Mike Abbey as a person of interest without having to question him.  Stretching his neck, Tim was surprised to look over and see Damian trudging up to the pair from the stairs.  He tapped Bruce lightly and inclined his head towards the approaching boy.

Bruce straightened up with his hands on his hips, waiting for his son to come closer before talking.  He was a bit disturbed at how slow Damian was walking, and that his face seemed to be locked on the ground.

When he was close enough, Bruce said, “Well, young man?  What do you have to say for yourself?”

Damian slowly lifted his red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face to look at Bruce, who recoiled slightly, before saying, “Robin’s been kidnapped.”

 

**A/N: CatChan, your guess was close, but I’m not going to credit you for where this story is going, because this is an idea I came up with eight months ago.  I am just getting to it now.**

**I think the story is going well, but I would love to hear what readers think of what’s been released so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	4. 4

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 4

 

“Batman, are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“What else can we do, Red Robin?  We need to start narrowing down leads, now that we have two cases to solve.”

Batman and Red Robin tore through the darkened streets of North Gotham, heading for the home of the Abbey family.  It hadn’t been a good afternoon in the Wayne household.  Damian had barely been able to get out the announcement that the Abbey girls had been kidnapped before collapsing inconsolably in tears.  Alfred had given Bruce the cold shoulder for allowing Damian out of bed while he was still recovering.  Jason was still surly and prickly over his housing situation, and had yelled at Dick when he asked his brother how he was feeling.  Tim still felt guilty that his program had set the crosshairs on Mike Abbey as a potential suspect.

So, Bruce and Dick had a quick talk before patrol, and decided to split up the tasks for the night.  Bruce would take Tim out to begin the investigation into their new leads, while Dick stayed home and tried to play peacemaker with those who were staying behind.  In all, Bruce felt he was getting the better half of the deal.

Now, with his third son in tow, Bruce hoped to be able to make some progress on the problems facing him tonight.  He still wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to remain objective in the upcoming interrogation.  This would be the first time Batman would be questioning someone that Bruce considered to be a friend.  A small war was taking place between the two halves of his personality at that conundrum.

One the one hand, Tim’s crime analysis program currently held a one hundred percent success rate, which was good enough for Batman.  If the program said that Mike Abbey was involved in the crime wave somehow, Batman was convinced that the man was involved.  That was more than enough for the vigilante to allow the questioning.

On the other hand, Bruce hadn’t had a friend his own age, who wasn’t a business acquaintance or a Justice League member, since before the murder of his parents.  As little as he liked to admit it, especially while wearing the cowl, the man had gotten to him in a way that no one else had in over thirty years.  Damian may have been fearing the potential loss of his girlfriend, but Bruce was secretly harboring the same fear over the potential loss of his friend.

_How did this happen?  How did I let someone in, especially given our limited relationship?  He struck me in the same way Dick did, all those years ago.  An open, honest, caring person.  He never put on airs, like the other socialites.  He never tried to be something he wasn’t.  Mike Abbey is just a good, wholesome, warts-and-all kind of guy.  He’s the type of person I wish I could have been._

Batman took back precedence in the split mind again.  _I don’t have time for this sentimentality.  I have a job to do, and that is to see if this open, honest, caring person is really a master manipulator in disguise.  Mike Abbey should never meet me, but there isn’t a choice in that now.  My only hope is that he comes clean with just questions.  If I have to reign myself in during the interrogation, I’ll never be satisfied that the answers I get are true.  How did this happen?_

Red Robin’s voice broke into Batman’s internal monologue.  “Batman, I’m getting a lot of activity on the police bands from the area around the Abbey house.”

“That’s not surprising.  Robin said that when he called to talk to…Robin…that the police were already there and tapping the phones.”

Red Robin looked over and asked, “Did he say why he called?  He already knew that we were investigating Mr. Abbey at that point.  Was he trying to warn her, or something?”

Batman shook his head, “He didn’t say, but I think he was just scared and confused and needed someone to talk to.  Robin wouldn’t blow an investigation like that, no matter how he felt about the target.  He probably wanted to spend as much time with Robin as he could.”

Red Robin looked down and said, “You realize that this is going to get very confusing, right?”

“In more ways than you probably realize.”

A grin broke out on Red’s face, “I’m not even talking about tonight.  If we find the girls, and Robin is with us when we do, we will have two Robin’s in the same place at the same time.  If we aren’t careful, it will turn into a full comedy routine.”

Batman snorted, which was the closest he would allow himself to get to a laugh while in uniform.  “We can’t exactly use his real name out in the field.  I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

The car fell silent for another minute before Batman said quietly, “Red Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you trying to distract me from the upcoming interrogation?”

Red Robin answered hesitantly, “That depends.  Is it working?”

“A bit.”

“Then that’s what I was trying to do.”

Batman’s hand came off the steering wheel and gripped RR’s wrist firmly, but with a gentleness that expressed the emotion that Batman refused to voice while under the cowl.  Red patted the hand gripping his wrist and smiled up at the man it belonged to.

Batman slowed down three blocks from the Abbey house and started looking around at the neighborhood.  It was a typical suburban neighborhood of identical tract houses, with the occasional park or school interspersed in between.  

“Red Robin, we have another problem.”

“What’s that?”

Batman looked over and said wryly, “Where the hell do we park the Batmobile in the suburbs?  There are no dark alleys between buildings.  There are sure to be police watching the house, so we can’t just pull up in the driveway.  I can’t think of a place where we can stop unseen.”

Red Robin’s eyes widened under his cowl.  “You’re right.  I never thought of that.  I guess there is a reason we don’t work Gotham Heights, aside from the lower crime rate.”

“Find us a dark place to park.”

Red Robin pulled up a map of the area on a screen and scowled at what he saw.  “Uhh…okay.  There is a park about a mile north.  We should be able to find a dark place in there to hide the car, but it’s going to be a bit of a hike to the house.”

Batman rolled his eyes under his cowl, but said, “That’ll have to do.”

Batman and Red Robin found a well-lit suburban park, which caused Red Robin to wince.  “Sorry, Batman.  I guess the city is actually doing something with all the money they collect in property taxes.”

“I didn’t think it would be this hard to find a dark spot around here either, Red Robin.”

They did the best they could without having to break street lights, having to drive into the park itself to find a place dark enough to hide the Batmobile.  Satisfied with the spot, Batman and Red Robin made quick work of their hike to the Abbey house.

Crouching on a roof near the Abbey house, Batman stared at the edifice through binoculars.  “What can you tell me about the inside of the house?”

Red Robin winced again and tapped Batman on the shoulder.  “Well, the first thing I can tell you is it’s not the house you’re looking at, next to us, it’s the one across the street.”

Batman turned ninety degrees to his left to look at the house Red indicated, after shooting a light glare at the younger man.  Red shrugged and said, “Sorry, it’s the suburbs.  All the houses look alike.  I only ever saw part of the first floor.  Sitting room, dining room, kitchen, living room, a couple closets, and an office.  Pretty standard, I guess.”

“That’s all you can tell me?  How many times have you gone out with Gina?”

Red Robin rolled his eyes.  “We’ve never actually gone out.  We’re just friends.  Most of the time, we just meet somewhere.  The only time I was ever actually in the house was for the infamous first date.  You should have asked Robin for a more detailed layout.  He’s been in there more times than I have.”

“Robin wasn’t exactly in a talking mood tonight, and frankly, I don’t blame him.  I think he’s earned a pass on this one for now.  Any ideas about security?”

“None of my research showed any sort of actual alarm system.  Of course, all of these houses are equipped with those damn motion detector lights.  Must be an HOA or something in this area.  None of that will matter if we’re spotted by the two undercover police cars parked here.”

Batman looked down at the unmarked cruisers parked on the street and said, “Three.  You missed the van, five houses down.  That must be where the phone tap equipment.”

Red shook his head, “Two, Batman.  I counted the van.  The black cruiser in front of the house actually belongs to Mr. Abbey.  He is a bit of a gearhead.  He said he bought it as an undercover muscle car, and has slowly been turning it into a street legal dragster.  Mr. Abbey claims he can get a twelve second quarter mile out of it, but I will need to see that for myself to believe it.”

Batman looked at the car through the binoculars again, a bit shocked that he was learning something about Bruce’s friend that just made him like the man more.  _Why is this interrogation getting harder before we even get into the house?_   Batman moved the binoculars to look at the house again, and stopped on the front window, where a shadow had been passing back and forth behind the curtains.  “Mike is pacing back and forth.  I was hoping he would be asleep.  If we can see his shadow, then the police can, too.  We need to find a way to not be seen while talking to him.”

Red Robin smirked, “You mean, we need to be Batman?”

A grim smirk crossed the vigilante’s face, “Yes, that.  Okay, here’s how this is going to work.  You will wait here on overwatch.  Keep your radio on so you can listen in.  There wouldn’t be a surveillance van still here if the ransom demands had already been made.  Watch for anything suspicious, in case the demands are not called in over the phone.  Listen to the interview closely.  If you think I’m going too far, let me know.  I’m going to need your help in keeping my promise to Robin.”

“Got it.”

Batman disappeared from the roof.  Red Robin didn’t bother looking for the dark knight as he crossed the street; he knew it would be pointless.  Batman wouldn’t have moved if he thought there was a chance he would be spotted crossing the street.  The only real sign that his mentor had made it across the street was when the shadow of Mike Abbey stopped and turned suddenly in the front window.

Red Robin could hear the interview over the radio.

“Michael Abbey.”

The man gasped and turned suddenly.  “Jesus Christ!  What the hell?  Batman, is it really you?  Why are you in my house?”

“I have questions for you, Abbey, and you’re going to answer them.”

Mike ignored the statement and said, “Batman, you’ve got to help me, please.  My daughters were kidnapped.  The police say they’re looking into it, but they don’t have any leads.  Please, I’m desperate here.  I want my girls back.  I…I can pay you.  I have money.  Name your price, just please, find my girls.”

Red Robin smirked across the street, thinking, _if only he knew who he was talking to._

Batman glared at the man, stunning him into silence.  “I didn’t come about your offspring, Abbey.  Tell me the truth, what do you know about the arson wave in town?”

Mike looked at the vigilante strangely.  “Arson wave?  What arson wave?  You think I really give a shit about some fires, when someone abducted my daughters from my driveway in broad daylight?  Why are you really here?”

“Answer my question!”

“I just did,” the man said, his voice rising, “I don’t know anything about any fires.”

“Your three main business rivals in Gotham all suffer devastating fires at their manufacturing facilities over the last week.  Your holdings are left untouched.  You pick up business from your rivals, who can’t meet demands anymore.  Your stocks are rising fast, Abbey.  It all looks a bit suspicious, don’t you think?”

Mike shook his head in frustration, “What do you want me to say?  Do you want me to say that I sent my employees out to torch the competition?”

Batman took an intimidating step forward, “We know who set the fires.  I’m looking for the man behind the arsonist.  It takes someone with deep pockets to fund the kind of destruction that has been brought against your business rivals.  Didn’t you just offer to bribe me?  The kind of money that is needed to buy me is the same kind of money that can keep Firefly in matches and gasoline for years to come.  You aren’t making it any easier to believe that you had nothing to do with this.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Batman,” Mike said desperately.  “What kind of proof are you looking for?  Do you want to look at my bank statements?  Do you want to see my employees’ timecards?  How about looking over my phone records?  I know, why don’t we forget this fire shit, and you help me _find my daughters!_ ”

“Batman,” Red Robin mumbled, “He’s close to snapping.  Let him cool off for a minute.  Ask him to tell you about the girl’s abduction.  I’m starting to believe him about the fires.”

_I am, too,_ Batman thought.  _My presence alone should have been enough to scare a confession out of him if he had anything to do with it.  His emotional state won’t allow for any guile right now.  Red Robin is right._   “Tell me about the abduction of your daughters.  Start from the top.”

Mike did a double take at the abrupt shift in the line of questioning.  “It’s about time you got to the real problem.  My girls, Gina and Robin, went to the mall on Friday afternoon.  They were just coming home when a van pulled up in front of the house.”

“What time,” Batman asked.

Mike thought for a second, “I don’t know exactly, maybe around five thirty?  I was in the garage, cleaning out the rafters.  I saw the girls pull into the driveway.  Gina parked behind my wife’s car.  They were pulling some bags out of the trunk when the van stopped.  Four men in ski masks jumped out and grabbed them.  Like I told the police, I couldn’t get a good description of them.  It was just four guys, covered head to toe in black.  Black ski masks, black long sleeve shirts, black jeans, black boots.”

“What kind of van?”

Mike sighed, “White Ford Econoline panel van.  No license plates.  Tinted front and back windows.  No distinguishing marks of any kind that I could see.”

“And there are probably several thousand vans that fit that description in Gotham City,” Red Robin said over the radio.

Batman took another step forward, “Why didn’t you stop them?”

“Stop them,” Mike asked, astonished, “ _Stop them_?  Maybe because I’m not some pointy-eared almost-criminal who stalks the night looking to beat people up.”

Batman glared roughly at the man, all the while wishing this could be over.  He much preferred the man Bruce called a friend to the frightened, defensive man before him.

Mike shook his head and resumed his pacing.  “There was no time.  I was in the back of the garage, behind a stack of boxes.  The van was stopped in front of the house for less than thirty seconds.  They had to have been following the girls back from the mall.  By the time I got to the end of the driveway, the van was just…gone.  I couldn’t even chase after them.  My Vic is far faster than that van, but by the time I could have gotten the keys and chased them, they were long gone.”

“What happened then,” Batman asked, a trace of kindness entering his voice.

“I called the police.  They sent a patrol out, and set up an Amber alert, but there was nothing to find.  Whoever they are, they called on Gina’s phone and said they would call back with ransom instructions.  That was two days ago.  They haven’t called back, and I’m starting to lose hope.”

Batman shook his head, “It’s a strategy.  The longer they make you wait, the more desperate you get.  The more desperate you get, the more you will give to get them back safely.  If they have waited this long, they must be aiming at something massive.  How did you get your daughter’s phones?  Aren’t teenage girls chained to their phones?"

Mike looked up sharply.  “How did you know my girls are teenagers?”

“Do you really think I didn’t do my research on you, Abbey?  I know more about you than you know about yourself.  Remember, I’m not here about your girls, I’m here because you are a suspect in the recent arson spree in Gotham, and I’m still not convinced that you are innocent in that.”

“Yes, you are,” Red Robin whispered in Batman’s ear.

Mike’s eyes narrowed in anger.  He took two stalking steps towards the armored vigilante, raised a finger, and opened his mouth to give Batman a piece of his mind.  Only a midi version of a pop song coming from an end table stopped the tirade before it got started.

Both men looked in the direction of the noise, and Mike paled as he said, “Oh god, it’s Gina’s phone.”

Both men rushed for the device.  Mike got there first and picked it up, only to have Batman snatch it from his hand and place a bug over the speaker, so the conversation could be recorded.  He quickly handed the phone back to Mike, who answered the call.  “Hello?”

“You called the police, Mr. Abbey.”

The voice was vaguely familiar to Batman, but he couldn’t quite place it yet.

“Of course I called the police.  Someone snatched my girls from in front of my home, and I want them back.”

“You want them back?  Good.  That’s exactly what a good father should say in a situation like this.  Then again, a good father wouldn’t have let them get kidnapped in the first place.”

“What do you want?”

The voice was silent for a minute, before continuing, “We’ll get to that, but first, I want to explain something.  This all has nothing to do with you.  I don’t care about you or your family in the least.  To me, you are just another rich asshole, exploiting the planet for your personal gain.  The thing is, I like personal gain, too, and you are going to help me get more than I ever dreamed possible in the past.  In a way, I have made it impossible for you to say no to my demands.”

Mike sounded nervous, “What do you mean?”

There was a twisted mirth in the almost familiar voice.  “Yes or no, you will get your daughters back, so don’t worry about that.”  Mike heaved a great sigh as the man continued, “The real question is, what is more important to you, your daughters or your reputation?”

“I don’t get it.  What does that mean?”  Mike’s face held a look of nervous confusion.

“If you agree to my demands, it shows that you are the good father, and you get your kiddos back, safe and sound.  If you say no, then I release a tiny white lie, which even now is getting ready to break over your head.  It’s all circumstantial evidence, but it’s more than enough for you to lose everything.  I suppose you are aware of the recent fires in Gotham?”

“Yeah…” Mike said slowly, turning to look at Batman.

There was a definite smile in the voice that came over the line, “Those targets were specifically chosen to make it seem like you were trying to eliminate your enemies.  I have in my possession a document, linking you to the hiring of our dear Firefly.  I have another document stating you used your financial influence to curry favors with the parole board, to get Firefly out of jail early.  It’s all fabricated, but it is just legit enough to put you through a very uncomfortable investigation, which will end any chance you might have had to still do business in Gotham City, _rwk rwk!”_

Batman’s eyes bulged behind his cowl.  _Penguin!  I knew that voice sounded familiar.  He’s been laying low for a while.  What does he want?_

“What about my girls?  You said, if I say no, I still get my girls back.”

“That’s right, I did say that,” Penguin said thoughtfully, “and I meant it.  You will get them back.  However, if you say yes, you get them back in one piece.  If you say no, you get them back one piece at a time, parcel post.”

Mike wavered on the spot, close to collapse, as the Penguin laughed on the other end of the call.  “What kind of choice is that,” Mike asked weakly.

“It’s not a choice.  I’m just making sure you know the consequences that await you if I don’t get what I want.”

Mike slumped back into a chair, tears leaking down his face, “Why me?  Why my girls?  What do you want?”

“Why you?” Penguin asked, genuine shock in his voice.  “Because you have what I want, that’s why.”

“What do you want?” Mike repeated.

Penguin’s tone became fully business-like.  “On Tuesday, you have a meeting scheduled with the board of Keystone Junior, where you plan to finalize your purchase of twenty-three miles of Alaskan oil pipeline.  That pipeline is set to make you millions, and I want it.  So, on Tuesday, you go to your meeting and sign all those dotted lines.  You pay your investment to make you the proud owner of several thousand feet of concrete tubing, and you celebrate a great milestone with your company.  Enjoy it while you can, because if you want your daughters back, first thing Wednesday morning you will go down to your office and draft a transfer of ownership document.  You will legally and bindingly transfer your claim on the oil pipeline to Cobblepot, Incorporated.  Once I have the transfer of ownership documents in my hands, you will get your little girls back.”

Mike was breathing hard, nearing hyperventilation.  As much as he wanted Gina and Robin back, this pipeline deal was to be his retirement plan.  His share of the profits would be enough to set up his children’s grandchildren for a comfortable life.  “My company will crucify me if I do that.  The board of directors will rip my company out from under me.  I’ll lose everything.”

“Everything except your daughters.  If your company board of directors is anything approaching human, they will understand what you are doing.  You will be able to sleep at night, knowing that you made the only choice possible, for a good father.”

His voice shuddering as he wept at the choice presented before him, Mike gasped, “I want to speak to my daughters.  How do I even know you have them?”

The shrug was evident in Penguin’s voice.  “I guess that’s fair.”

The line was silent for a minute before a terrified voice filled the ears of the three listening men with a sound none of them would ever forget.  “Daddy?  Daddy, please, just give him what he wants.  I’m scared, Daddy.  I want to go home.”

Tim winced, a tear leaking from under his cowl.  _Oh, Gina.  You should never sound that scared.  If Batman doesn’t go after you himself, then Robin and I will.  Nothing will stop us from finding you._

“Baby, everything will be okay.  You just hang on, alright sweetie?”  Mike was sobbing into the phone.

“That’s right, Mr. Abbey.  Everything will be alright, assuming I get what I want,” Penguin’s cold voice came over the line.

“You bastard.  How can you do something like this?”

“I guess I’m just a bad person, Mr. Abbey.  Do we have a deal?”

Mike was shaking in anger and frustration as he ground out, “We have a deal.  How do I get you the documents, and where can I pick up my girls?”

The Penguin sounded delighted.  “I’ll call back Tuesday night with instructions.  Don’t worry, Mr. Abbey.  Just a couple more days and this will all be but a bad memory.”

The line went dead, and Mike dropped the phone.  He looked around his living room to find that he was alone.  _Was Batman even here?  Was this all a bad dream?_

The front door opened, and a smiling officer walked into the house.  “Good job, Mr. Abbey.  We got everything recorded on that call.  Our techs will begin analyzing the recording to see if we can track their location.  Our techs are the best.  Don’t worry, we’ll find your girls before the deadline.”

Mike flinched at the word ‘deadline’ but thanked the officer and went upstairs to tell his wife what had happened.

Back in the Batmobile, the atmosphere was filled with tension.  Red Robin was unable to speak.  He didn’t think he could open his mouth without crying for his friend.  Batman was feeling the impotent rage that Mike Abbey was currently feeling.  Until they found the Penguin’s current hideout, there was very little they could do.

Batman looked over at Red Robin and felt compassion for his third son.  _That must have been terrible for him to hear.  The only thing that would have made that call worse would be if Robin had been the one to talk, and my Robin was the one to hear her.  I wouldn’t have a son and a partner then, I would have a blubbering ball of angry tears._

As the car pulled into the cave, Batman spoke quietly.  “Get cleaned up, go upstairs, and get some sleep.  I know that was hard for you to hear, but you need some rest, and to clear your head, before we start tracking Penguin.  I won’t start without you.  I’m just going to load the recording into the computer and set it to auto-analyze.”

Finally able to speak, Red Robin said, “Okay.  I don’t think I can concentrate right now, anyways.  Please, when we’re working on the recording tomorrow, don’t let me hear the part with Gina.  I don’t think I can take it.”

Bruce pulled off his cowl and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder.  “Believe me, son, I don’t want to hear that any more than you do.  I just hope it doesn’t keep replaying in my dreams tonight.”

Tim was already pulling his uniform off as he said, “Damian will want to help with this.  I think he should be allowed to help.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, “I’m still not sure if he should be in trouble for what he said to you yet.”

“I’m not holding a grudge, Bruce, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it.  Trying to keep him out of this will only make things worse.  As bad as it was hearing Gina’s voice, it would have been ten times worse if Robin spoke.  Hearing that would have killed Damian.”

“I know,” Bruce said darkly.

Following a silent shower, Tim trudged up to his room, replaying the events of the investigation in his mind.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to solve anything tonight, but he also knew it would be almost impossible to erase it from his mind enough for him to be able to sleep.

As it turned out, a distraction presented itself.  Tim turned on the light in his bedroom and had to stop himself from shouting in shock.  There, sitting up in his bed, under the covers, was Damian.  The boy had fallen asleep, leaning against the headboard, and had started awake when the light was turned on.

Damian grumbled, but didn’t complain about being woken up.  He actually felt a little bad that he had fallen asleep while waiting for his brother.

Tim looked warily at the boy and said, “Damian?”

“I wanted you to know that I don’t hate you, Drake.  I apologize for what I said earlier.  I was…” Damian trailed off, words escaping him.

Tim gave a soft smile and thought, _Okay, Bruce will like this.  It should be enough to get him out of trouble, and if it isn’t, I’ll vouch for him._  “I kind of figured that you weren’t as mad as you let on.  I understand how frustrating it can be.  You’re trying your best, and everything gets turned on its head.  No one could have expected them to be kidnapped.”

Damian sniffed at the reminder, “Thank you, Drake.  I still don’t understand why you are so…understanding, and patient, with me.  I certainly don’t deserve it.”

Tim shrugged, “Maybe not, but that’s what brothers do.  Anyway, I like you, you jerk.”

Tim flopped down on the bed as Damian made to get up and leave.  Tim grabbed his wrist and said, “You don’t have to leave, Damian.”

Damian looked back at the hand on his arm and said, “I said what I came to say.  What else is there?”

“There’s tonight, for one.  I’m surprised you don’t want to hear what happened.”

“I do want to know, but I also don’t want to know.  I don’t want to hear how Father pissed off a man who did nothing wrong in the name of an investigation.”

Tim patted the bed next to him, and waited for Damian to lay back down before he said, “Mike Abbey has been cleared as a person of interest.  In fact, the whole arson case has been solved, except for the capture of Firefly, but we’ll get there.  We know who is behind him, and why.”

Damian rolled on to his side and stared wide-eyed at Tim.  “That was quick.  Did Mr. Abbey know something we didn’t?”

“Yes, and no.  Mr. Abbey didn’t know anything, because he really is innocent in all of this.  However, the fires and the kidnappings are connected.”

Damian’s eyes grew even wider, “No shit?”

“No shit,” Tim said with a smile.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s all about money,” Tim said.  Damian nodded, so Tim continued, “Mr. Abbey is making a deal to buy an oil pipeline in Alaska this week.  The deal will make him millions, and it has attracted the attention of organized crime.  The girls were kidnapped as leverage, to get Mr. Abbey to sign over his claim to the pipeline.”

“Sign over to whom?”

“The Penguin.  He is the one behind Firefly, the kidnappings, and setting up Mr. Abbey to take the fall if something goes wrong.”

Damian looked confused, “How did Mr. Abbey know all this?”

Tim shook his head, “He didn’t.  While Bruce was questioning him, Penguin called with the ransom demands.  Sign over the oil pipeline legally, or the girls will be killed and Penguin will make it look like Mr. Abbey ordered the fires to destroy his competitors.  Both us and the police got recordings of Penguin making the false allegations, so there is no way he will get away with ruining Mr. Abbey’s business, but he still has the girls, and can still hurt them.  The police are getting their forensic analysts on the recording.  They are probably looking at it as we speak.  Bruce and I will start in the morning.  I told Bruce that you should be able to help.  He still isn’t happy with what you said to me, but I told him not…”

Tim trailed off as he caught sight of the calm, sleeping face of his little brother.  _Oh well, I guess he is still getting over a concussion.  He needs his rest.  So do I, for that matter.  We’ll talk about it in the morning._

Tim turned off his light, covered up his sleeping brother with the blanket, and closed his eyes, following his brother into sleep.


	5. 5

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 5

 

“He survived.”

Dick looked over at Jason, who was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper.  “What was that, Jay?”

Jason turned the paper to show Dick the article he had been reading.  “He survived.”

Dick still looked confused and asked, “Who?”

“Willis, that rat bastard meth head who blew up my home.”

Dick began reading the article and said, “Willis.  Is that a first name or a last name?  Oh, please tell me his first name is Bruce.”

Jason sent a cold glare at his older brother and said harshly, “Kevin.  Damn it, I thought he died in the blast.  He’s going to wish he had died by the time I get through with him.”

Dick looked over with a knowing glance.  “Jason, let the law handle him.”

Jason scoffed, “The law?  In this soft on crime, no death penalty state?  What good will that do?  Where’s the justice in that?”

Dick finished scanning the article quickly before saying, “Jason, seriously, let the police handle this.  You’re too close to it.”

“The police?  Don’t we spend every night taking the law into our own hands precisely because the police in Gotham are basically worthless?  No, Dick.  This bastard is mine.”

Dick put the newspaper down and looked pleadingly at his brother.  “Please, brother.  Don’t do anything you’re going to regret later.”

“Regret?” Jason roared, rising to his feet.  “I will _not_ regret putting a bullet in his head.”

Dick rose as well.  “That won’t solve anything.  This won’t help out the victims one bit.  The police are already going to pick him up.  The article said he is going to turn himself in.”

“Every second he is out on the streets is an affront to their memories.  I lived with those people.  I cared for those people.  Their killer will not go free.”

Dick blocked Jason’s path as he took a step towards the door.  “You lived with _him_ , too.  I can’t let you do this, Jason.”

Jason met Dick’s eyes for a handful of seconds before closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.  A smile started to cross Dick’s face when two hands connected roughly with his shoulders.  Jason shoved Dick roughly away from him.  Trying to maintain his balance after the unexpected attack, Dick took a step back.  His legs got caught in the coffee table, and he fell backwards awkwardly, landing hard, half on, half off the table.  Without sparing a look at the fallen man, Jason strode from the room with purpose.

“Hey, what’s all the yelling—aaaowww!”

Damian walked into the living room to investigate the raised voices, which he could hear from the kitchen, where he had been talking with Alfred, and was just entering the room as Jason was leaving.

If Dick hadn’t been able to stop Jason, then Damian stood no chance of convincing him of anything.  He wasn’t given a chance to try, because before the question was out of the boy’s mouth, Jason struck again.  Jason caught the youth with a vicious backhand to the jaw that lifted Damian clean off the floor.  Having no control of his flight after the surprise attack, Damian’s head collided solidly with the doorframe, sending the boy sliding down the wall to the floor, unconscious.  Jason stalked off, not sparing a look back.

Bruce and Tim looked up from where they sat around the computer at the sound of Jason stalking into the cave.  Tim opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Bruce placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.  Tim looked up, but Bruce just shook his head.

Jason disappeared into the locker room, and Bruce whispered, “He’s not ready yet, Tim.  We just need to give him some time.”

Shortly after, Jason marched out of the locker room in full Red Hood attire, jumped on his motorcycle, and left, without a word or a glance at the cave’s occupants.  As far as either of them could tell, Jason hadn’t even seen them.

“It’s not even noon yet, Bruce.  What does he think he’s doing?”

Bruce sighed, “Your brother has a hot head, but he’s going through a lot right now.  We need to give him some time and space to clear his head.”

A minute later, Dick came stumbling into the cave, rubbing the back of his head, where it had hit the hardwood floor of the den.  Bruce ran over, concerned, when Dick tripped on the last step of the stairs.  His acrobat never tripped, unless he was pushed… _or concussed._

“Dick?  You okay?” Bruce asked gently.

Dick held on to Bruce’s arm, steadying himself, and asked, “Where is he?”

“Who?  Jason?  He just left.”

Dick’s eyes widened, “You didn’t stop him?  Jesus, Bruce, what were you thinking?”

Confused, Bruce said, “I was thinking that he’s hurting, and he needs some time to figure things out.  Why?  What should I have been thinking?”

Dick winced and said, “You should have been thinking that he’s angry, and is on his way to kill someone!”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “What?  Tim!”

He turned, and Tim said, “I’m already tracking him, Bruce.”

Bruce walked Dick over to a chair and sat him down.  “What happened, Chum?”

Dick took a deep breath before starting, partly because it was a long story and partly because his head was throbbing.  “We were in the den.  Jason was reading the paper, and he saw an article about the fire.  Police named the meth cooker, and mentioned that they were waiting for the guy to turn himself in.  Jason got…offended…that the man was still walking around free.  I tried to stop him, but he wasn’t listening.  He…he shoved me over the coffee table.  I’ll be okay, Bruce.  I’m feeling better now as it is.  I just had to get down here to try and stop him.  I couldn’t wait until I wasn’t dizzy anymore.”

Bruce was standing and looking at the bump rising at the back of his eldest son’s skull.  His probing hands went from inspecting the lump to giving a soothing scalp massage.  “Well, it doesn’t look too serious.  Alfred will still have to take a look at it before patrol tonight.  Come on, let’s get you back upstairs.  Tim, keep tracking him.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As Dick was helped to his feet, he said, “Well, I’ll have to wait for Alfred.  He’s got his hands full right now.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“I wasn’t the only one caught in Hurricane Jason.  I guess we got a little loud when we were arguing over Jason not going out to kill his former neighbor.  Damian came to check on us, and Jason…attacked.”

Bruce stopped, and Tim rose from the computer and hurried over to hear more.  “What do you mean, attacked?”

Dick took another deep breath.  “Jason had already knocked me over the coffee table.  My vision was a little blurry, but it was clear enough to see Jason backhand the shit out of Damian.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Jason knocked him out with a single backhand?  How hard did he swing?”

Dick shook his head slightly.  “No, Jason didn’t knock him out.  The wall did.  Damian didn’t stand a chance.  He wasn’t expecting to walk into what happened.  Neither was I, for that matter.  It was an unprovoked attack.”

Bruce was staring up the stairs, and Dick took the arm that Bruce had been holding and wrapped it around Tim’s shoulders.  “Go, Bruce.  Check on your boy.  Timmy will help me back up the stairs.”

Bruce quickly left his odd numbered sons, knowing they would be following behind at a slower pace, and made his way to the den.  Bruce was greatly relieved when he heard two voices coming from the room.

“I’m _fine,_ Pennyworth.  I don’t have another concussion.”

“You were unconscious on the floor when I came in, Master Damian.  It took the smelling salts to rouse you.  Forgive me for taking a few precautions.”

Bruce stood in the doorway, watching as Alfred shined a penlight in Damian’s eyes.  He could tell by the annoyance evident on the boy’s face that he was back to himself again.  After a couple more checks, Alfred straightened up and said, “Well, it seems you have walked away from this without further complications.  I am well aware of where you get your hardheadedness from, but perhaps next time you would be so kind as to not put that hard head through the wall.  I will have to get a repairman out to fix the hole.”

Bruce looked next to where he was leaning and saw that there actually was a hole in the wall.  _Just how hard did Jason hit him?_

“Are you okay, Damian?”

Butler and boy looked over to where Bruce was standing.  Bruce thought Damian looked apprehensive before answering.  “I have a headache, which I think is understandable.”

“What was that look for,” Bruce asked.

Damian looked down and said, “You’re going to keep me off patrol for another night now, aren’t you?”

Despite the glare from Alfred, Bruce said, “Let’s see how you’re feeling when it gets a little closer to patrol time.”

Determined to speak with his employer later, Alfred said, “I believe I have another patient to look after.  Where did Master Dick get to?”

Bruce was walking over to the couch as he said, “He’ll be up, with Tim, in just a minute.”

Bruce sat down next to the hesitant-looking boy as Alfred left the room.  Damian sighed again and said, “Pennyworth will try to keep me in tonight.”

“I don’t doubt it.  A little more rest never hurt anybody, and it will probably do your head some good.”

Bruce turned Damian’s head to the side and looked at the boy’s jaw, where he could make out the impression of Jason’s knuckles still.  “What did you say to get Jason to take a swing at you?”

“I didn’t say anything, Father.  Grayson and Todd were yelling at each other.  I came in to see what was going on.  The next thing I know, Pennyworth is picking me up off the floor and telling me he needs to examine me for another concussion.  Why did he do that?  I only wanted to help.”

Bruce snaked an arm around Damian’s shoulders and said softly.  “It’s not your fault, son.  Dick said that Jason saw something upsetting in the paper.”

Damian leaned over and placed his head on Bruce’s shoulder.  “Father, why is it that no one ever tells me anything?  I’m not a child.  I wish everyone would stop treating me like one.”

“You’re my child, and that’s enough for me to want to make sure you are protected.”

Damian snorted, “I can take care of myself, Father.”

Bruce chuckled, “I know, son.  But, just because you can do a thing, doesn’t mean that you always have to do a thing.  There is no shame in allowing others to help you.”

Damian looked up with a calculating gaze.  “Does that include shielding me from things that you believe will upset me?

Bruce met the gaze.  “Sometimes.  You’ve had enough of that in your life, don’t you think?  There’s more to being a grown up than just facing all of the world’s evils, Damian.  You don’t have to face things you aren’t ready for, just because you think you should, to be seen as an adult.”

Damian looked away from the gaze.  “I know that, Father, but what we do is not conducive to keeping any sort of personal innocence intact.  Talia did her best to remove that from me.  Coddling me won’t replace that.”

Bruce was greatly saddened at that thought.  “I know.  I hate it, but I know.  That doesn’t mean that I won’t still try, because you’re my son, and I want you to have a better life than I have had.  I can’t protect you from everything, but will you allow me to try, from time to time, to at least protect you from some things?”

The boy scooted closer to the man as the arm tightened around his shoulders.  “I suppose that’s acceptable, Father.”

“Why all this talk about shielding you from things?”

“Why has my access to the call recording from last night been blocked?  I have more of a stake in what was said than you do.  Why does everyone try to keep me away from situations like the fire at Todd’s apartment?  Just because he doesn’t want my help doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to offer it.  You and Grayson have been telling me that I need to be more empathetic, but when opportunities to attempt that show up, I’m told to keep my mouth shut and go away.  How am I ever going to get better at something you have told me to get better at if I’m never given an opportunity to practice?”

Bruce thought for a minute before saying, “You’re right.  You’re never going to improve if all we do is send you away.  You should remember, though, that you tried to offer your help today, and got attacked for it.  You may not like hearing this, but you have a very fragile sense of self.  You have been known to take something and see it as a critical failing.  You try, and you get shot down, and you take it personally, and it hurts me to see you suffering the kind of pain it causes you.  Your self-esteem is far lower than it should be.  We want to build you up to a point where we don’t have to have these types of conversations every few weeks.  So, if it seems like we’re shielding you from things you probably should know about, we aren’t doing it to shut you out.  We’re doing it to help you.”

“What about the recording?”

Bruce closed his eyes and sighed, “That, I’m shielding you from.”

Damian looked up again, “But why, Father?”

“Because it will upset you.”

Frustrated at the circular conversation, Damian leaned back to look up into Bruce’s face.  “How can you be sure about that?”

Bruce sighed.  _There is no protecting this kid, no matter how hard I try._   “I’m sure about that because it upset Tim, and it upset me.  It upset both of us while we were in uniform, to the point where I had to leave the questioning early, because I would have been crying right along with Mike.  It upset Tim to the point where he couldn’t even speak until we returned to the cave.”

“I want to hear it, Father.  I need to know what we’re up against, if we are going to get Robin back.”

“You won’t like it, son.”

Damian stood and looked down at Bruce.  “I didn’t ask if I was going to like it, I asked to hear it.  If Drake’s description of it last night is accurate, I can guarantee that I won’t like it, but I deserve to be given the chance.”

Bruce stood and pulled Damian into a short hug.  “You’re right.  You do deserve that chance.  I just hope you know what you’re asking for.”

Forty-five minutes later, as Bruce was saving the recording in the computer, and Damian was sitting curled in Bruce’s lap, his face pressed into Bruce’s chest as quiet sobs rocked his small body, Bruce whispered, “I told you this would happen.”

“I kn-kn-know, F-Father,” Damian sniffled, “but th-thank you.  You kept your p-p-promise, to go easy on Mr. Abbey.”

Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around Damian’s shoulders, gently rocking the boy from side to side, in a motion he hadn’t used since trying to comfort Dick soon after his arrival at the manor.  “Now do you see why I wanted to keep that from you?”

Damian took a deep, shuddering breath before saying, “Yes, I do.  But, like you told me yesterday, I don’t have to like the evidence, to follow where it leads.  Can you play it back?”

Bruce laid his chin on the boy’s head.  “Absolutely not.”

“But I thought I heard something.”

Intrigued, Bruce asked, “Like what?”

“Something in the background.  It may be nothing, but it also may be a clue, and if Drake’s explanation last night was anywhere near accurate, we need as many of those as we can get.”

Bruce was pulling the recording back up, and asked, “Where did you think you heard it?”

Damian turned in Bruce’s lap to face the screen.  “During the silence.  Play back the part starting just after Mr. Abbey asks to speak to the girls, but please, stop it before Gina starts talking.  I…I don’t think I can stand to hear that again.”

“You and me both, son.”

Bruce cued up the recording, then played it back.  Father and son cocked their heads in matching poses, leaning an ear closer to the speaker to listen for any extra sounds.  They both winced when Bruce set the recording to play for a second too long, and Gina’s first desperate cry for her father sounded again in the cave.

“Sorry, son,” Bruce said, adjusting the start and stop points for the playback again.  “Do you still think you heard something?”

Damian nodded slightly, “Yes, Father.  Can you play back just the silence?  After Penguin talks, it sound like he puts the phone down, then the silence, then…Gina.  There is something in that silence, but I can’t quite make it out.”

Bruce thought the explanation sounded a bit weird, but had no other clues to go on at this point.  As he reset the start and stop points for the playback, he wondered how the audio analyzers in the computer didn’t pick up any anomalies in the recording.

Setting the eight second section to auto-replay, they listened again.  Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Bruce thought he could hear something, too.

“Turn it louder, and adjust to amplify the lower frequency ranges.”

“Yes, sir.”  Bruce smirked at the youth in his lap.  He noticed that focusing on this one problem, instead of the overall picture, was calming Damian.  If he had to follow a few simple directions from his son to get that, he had no problem with that.

They listened again, and Bruce was convinced that there definitely was something there.  A faint, almost clicking noise could be heard.  Bruce almost thought that, whatever he was hearing might actually be a very loud noise, but was being heard from very far off.

“I hear it now.  The clicking, right?”

Damian nodded, “Yes, I can hear it better now.  Playing it on repeat like that helped, Father.  It’s too steady to be random interference.  Is it possible to edit the voices out of the recording, and just listen to the background?”

Bruce thought for a second before saying, “Not completely, but we can eliminate the higher frequencies.  That will go part of the way to eliminating the voices.  Why, other than the obvious?”

Grimacing, Damian reached into his pocket for his phone while he said, “I want to listen to more of the recording, to see if the noise is constant all the way through.”  Not looking at Bruce, Damian tapped out a quick text message, _Drake, downstairs, now!_

With a smile growing on his face, Bruce said, “Six ears are better than four?”

Damian turned and looked up, “He wrote the program, didn’t he?  Maybe he can get it to do what I want.”

Bruce smirked, “Actually, he didn’t.  This is off the shelf audio analyzing software.”

“Oh,” Damian deflated a bit, “Well, he does have a degree in computer science.  If he can’t get this thing to work better, no one can.”

Bruce ruffled Damian’s hair and said, “I really like seeing the two of you getting along.”

Damian didn’t respond, and a minute later, both Tim and Dick appeared at the computer.  Tim patted Damian’s shoulder and asked, “What did I do this time?”

Damian looked up at the next oldest brother while pointing at the screen, and said, “Make that work better.”

Dick snorted a laugh, while Bruce and Tim just shook their heads.  Rolling his eyes, Damian clarified.  “There is some noise in the background of the call that we can’t identify.  I want to see if it is in more of the recording than the section we focused on, and see if we can get a little clearer picture of what’s going on.  I know you want to find Gina almost a quarter as much as I want to find Robin.  That noise is a clue to their location, so do whatever it is you do to make that program work better.”

Bruce and Damian stood to allow Tim to sit at the computer.  As Tim was entering commands into a prompt window, Dick couldn’t help but notice the wet spot on Bruce’s shirt.  He took a spot next to the boy, his hand coming to rest on the back of Damian’s neck.  “Are you okay?”

Damian leaned into the hand.  He couldn’t help but notice that Dick had stopped trying to rub his neck ever since Damian had informed Dick that Bruce was better at it.  Dick wholly agreed with the boy.  Damian figured it was Dick’s way of encouraging Bruce and Damian to bond.  “Not really.  That bastard has Robin.  She doesn’t belong to him, and she shouldn’t be a pawn in his sick game.  I’m not going to be okay until I see her again.”

Noticing that Bruce had leaned in to point something out to Tim, Damian took a couple seconds to lean closer to Dick and say quietly, “Father really is better at that than you.”  The hand stopped squeezing at the muscles in the boy’s neck, but before it could be retracted, Damian said, “That doesn’t mean you should stop, it means you should get some more practice.  I…I’ve grown accustomed to you doing that.”

A smile crossed Dick’s face, and the gentle massage continued.  A minute later, after thinking about what the boy had said, Dick said, “By the way, Robin doesn’t exactly belong to you, either.”

“No, but given her choice of birds to spend time with, I think she would prefer the company of another Robin to that of a Penguin.”

“Okay.  This is as good as I can make it.”  Tim, who had been surreptitiously listening to the pair of D’s, broke into their quiet moment.  “Where should we start?”

Reluctantly, Damian walked up to the computer, frowning when the hand left his neck.  “Start with the same section we were focusing on before, but add ten seconds to the beginning.  Play it back on repeat.”

Tim gave Bruce a quick glance.  The elder nodded, and Tim played the requested section.  It was the first time that Tim and Dick had heard the background noise, and they were astonished that they had missed it.  Damian gave a slow nod, his suspicion proven correct.  The noise was present in more than just the one section they had been listening to.

The voices hadn’t been completely eliminated from the playback, but they were distorted as the background was tuned in to focus.  Somehow, it made the conversation even more haunting.

“Okay, the sound is there, but what is it,” Tim asked.

“Go back some more, Tim,” Bruce said, “Let’s see if there is anything else we can isolate.”

Tim added another minute to the replay.  The sound was there, but nothing else was distinguishable.

Dick shook his head.  “Start from the beginning, Tim.  I might have an idea.”

As Tim was cueing up the recording, Bruce turned and asked, “Anything you want to share, chum?”

Dick shook his head, “Not yet, it’s just a hunch.”

Tim played the recording from the beginning.  The mysterious background noise was slower-paced at the start of the call, but soon picked up to the regular sound they had been listening to for the past fifteen minutes.

Suddenly, Dick’s eyes widened, and he shouted, “Stop!”

Tim stopped the recording as the other occupants stared at Dick.

“What is it, Grayson?”

Dick rushed forward to stand at Tim’s left elbow.  “Back it up ten seconds, and only play the higher frequencies.”

Tim shrugged and did as he was told.  Ten seconds later, three other sets of eyes had widened in dramatic fashion.

“That’s a bell,” Bruce said softly.

Tim’s fingers were flying across the keyboard as he enhanced the section.  Sure enough, a bell could be heard ringing out as clear as a bell.  Tim pulled out a set of earphones and placed them on his head, drawing a complaint from the cave’s other occupants when the sound was cut off.

After a minute, Tim took the earphones off and turned to his family.  “It’s moving.”

Damian’s jaw dropped, “You mean…you mean that they aren’t in a single location?  Penguin has a mobile hideout?”  He reached out, groping blindly until Bruce grabbed his hand and squeezed comfortingly.  “We’ll never find them.”

Tim shook his head, a small grin on his face.  “No, the bell is moving.  Stereo analysis shows that the sound is traveling from left to right, relative to where the Penguin was talking.  Something with a bell was passing by wherever Penguin has them.  I have the gain pretty high on this recording, so whatever it is, it’s at a considerable distance from where Penguin is.”

Nodding, Bruce said, “Keep playing.  Keep the focus on the higher frequencies.”

Tim hit play again.  They listened for another five minutes before their next breakthrough.  Damian was pacing back and forth behind the group as a high-pitched whistle was heard from the recording.  It was played back three times before the boy’s head snapped up, and he said softly, “It’s a train.”

Bruce, Dick, and Tim turned to look at the slow smile that was crossing the boy’s face.  “It’s a train!  Think about it.  The lower sounds were a rhythmic, even thumping.  Now, we have a bell and a whistle.  It’s a freight train.”

Even though he was glad to see a smile on his son’s face, Bruce needed to be convinced this was the answer.  “It sounds plausible, but walk me through it again.  How can you be sure it’s a train?”

“He is the family train expert, Bruce,” Dick said softly.

Damian walked back to the computer and said, “Drake, play back the first minute of the recording, just the low range.”  Tim played the section.  Damian continued, “Listen.  Thump…thump…thump…thump.  Widely spaced noises.  Jump ahead three minutes, Drake.”  He did.  “Thump-thump…thump-thump…thump-thump.  The sounds are closer together.  The train is picking up speed as it runs over the joints in the track.  Then, we have the bell, and the whistle.  It’s a freight train, I know it.”

Bruce was nodding slowly.  “Okay, it’s a train.  Why a freight train?  Why not a passenger train?”

“Freight trains are longer, slower, and heavier.  A passenger train wouldn’t take as long to get up to speed, and it wouldn’t still be passing by after three minutes, much less ten.  Remember, I first heard it in the silence before Gina came on the line.”  Damian looked closely at the monitor.  “According to this, that section is eleven minutes and eighteen seconds into the recording.”

Dick was squeezing Damian’s shoulders as Bruce turned and said, “Tim…”

The younger man was nodding, “Already pulling up the freight schedules for last night.  Cross-referencing by time index, and allowing for early or late trains gives us…the BNSF 1074, headed for Texas.  It pulled out of the North Gotham Freight Yard last night, ten minutes behind schedule.”

Bruce grimaced, “The North Gotham Freight Yard.  There must be hundreds of warehouses and outbuildings in that area.”

“Yes, but it’s a start,” Dick said.

 

**A/N:  Okay, so chapter five was originally going to be much longer, and have far more action, but I liked where this ended.  Of course, with the original chapter five now being split into two parts, that means that this story has gone from seven chapters to eight.  Don’t expect it to be extended any more than that, though.  We really are nearing the end of the tale.**

**I hope you like it so far.  I really like where I see the next three chapters going.  Please, let me know what you think so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	6. 6

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 6

 

“Master Damian, it is a perfectly lovely day.  There is no reason to take your lunch in that stuffy cave.”

Like the rest of the family, Damian sat at the dining table, waiting for Alfred to serve them their lunch.  Unlike the rest of the family, he was the only one grumbling.

“Why now, though, Pennyworth?  We finally make a breakthrough in the case, and you choose this time to serve lunch?  I just don’t see why we can’t eat in the cave, and continue working.”

Alfred came in with the boy’s plate and said, “You needed a break, and some light and fresh air.”

“We’re in the formal dining room.  This is hardly less stuffy than the cave.”

A smirk crossed Alfred’s face, and he whisked Damian’s plate away before the boy could grab it.  “You’re quite right, Master Damian.  This is far too stuffy for such a nice day.  Come with me, everyone, and bring your plates.”

Damian’s stomach made the decision for him, and he followed his food as it was taken outside to the patio table near the pool.

Alfred gave the boy a satisfied smile as he set the plate on the table and said, “There.  That’s much better, don’t you think?”

Damian sat, still grumbling.  “You used to bring our sandwiches to the cave when we were working on a big case.”

Alfred leaned forward and reached for Damian’s plate, saying just for the youth to hear, “I could arrange for a picnic by the pond if this location is not suitable, Master Damian.”

Damian hunched over his plate, preventing the butler from stealing his food a second time, as the rest of the family joined him in the outdoor setting.

Bruce settled into a chair and looked around with a slight grin.  “This is much better, Alfred.  Good idea.”

Looking around and deciding that he was in the minority, Damian attacked the only thing that wouldn’t get him into trouble, his sandwich.  He was hungrier than he thought, and his plate was cleared in short order.

Seeing more plates cleared, Damian said, “Okay, we’re eaten.  Can we get back to work and continue tracking the Penguin now?”

Bruce looked at Dick before saying, “No.  We can take a break for a bit, Damian.”

“We just took a break,” Damian said, stunned.

“And we’re not done yet.  Just relax a bit, Damian.”

Damian shot a cold glare at his father.  He said harshly, “How can you just relax when the Penguin is holding Robin and Gina hostage?  They’re the daughters of _your_ friend.  They’re very important to me, Father.”

“Damian…”

“No, Father!” The boy interrupted, “I can’t just sit here, doing nothing, knowing that they’re out there.  We’re close, Father.  Now is the time to press on, not to pull back.”

Bruce sighed, “Damian, if you don’t calm down, I will pull you from this altogether.”

“You can’t,” Damian blurted out desperately.

His outburst was met with a glare that said ‘yes, I can’ in every language.  Frustrated, Damian stalked away from the table.  On the other side of the pool, he kicked over a low accent table before crossing his arms and plopping himself down in a deck chair.  Bruce and Dick both noticed that the table seemed to be chosen as a target due to its durability, and the kick delivered was carefully measured to overturn the table harmlessly, not to destroy it.

“Was it a good idea to provoke him like that, Bruce,” Tim asked quietly.

Bruce kept his eyes on his youngest as he replied, “That’s been building up ever since he found out the girls were kidnapped.  I would rather he do that, and aim it at me, than release it on patrol, where he won’t feel the need to try to control his reaction so much.  I’m not going to make it harder for him to keep the promise he made to me not to kill anyone.  He’s too close to this, he needs to relax before he snaps.”

“I think we’re all too close to this one, Bruce,” Dick said.

Tim smiled and said, “He needs to relax before he snaps?  You mean, like he just did?”

Bruce finally turned to look at his third son.  “Tim, we both know that eruption could, and probably should, have been much worse.”

Tim nodded slowly, “Yeah, I do.  I guess your little boy isn’t a little boy anymore.”

Bruce sighed heavily, nodding at the less than pleasant thought.  “Dick, go make your brother feel better.  Let him know that he isn’t in trouble, and exactly why I forced that response out of him”

Dick walked off.  Bruce waited until Dick had sat down next to Damian before continuing, “Come on, Tim.  Grab a plate or two.  Let’s clear off the table and give them some time alone.  We’ll start again when he’s ready.”

Damian sat on the front edge of a redwood slat long lounge chair, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he stared intently into the water.  He knew it wouldn’t help anything to aim his glare at his Father, and it probably would have the effect of cutting him out of the rest of the rescue operation.

Dick approached quietly and smiled as he sat on the back half of the same chair, leaning against the inclined back.  Dick just sat quietly, knowing that Damian would talk to him when he was ready.  He only had to wait a minute, until Bruce and Tim started moving towards the house.

“How could he say something like that, Grayson?  How can he not want to find them?  Is he that opposed to seeing me happy?”

Dick shook his head sadly, “Oh, Damian.  You really don’t get your father at all, do you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Damian asked, more curious than offended.

Dick looked down at the space between them.  “Bruce _wanted_ you to blow up like that.  You were too tense, you needed to blow off some steam before it ate you up.  It was safe to do it here, so Bruce manipulated you into doing it.”

“Why would he do that?”

Dick’s hands worked their way onto Damian’s shoulders.  The older brother was very happy when the younger brother didn’t flinch.  “Bruce understands you better than you think he does.  He wants to find the girls, but he doesn’t want to run the risk of you killing someone who gets in your way.  Imagine if Robin were to see that?”

Damian imagined it, instantly wishing he hadn’t.  He turned his head slightly and said, “We don’t kill, though.  I made a promise.”

“You say that now.  How were you feeling about ten minutes ago?”

When Damian didn’t reply, Dick continued.  “Now that you’ve attacked that poor table and gotten it out of your system, you should be better able to concentrate when we get back to work.”

Damian tried to scoff.  “Right, like Father wants me down there, after my childish behavior.”

“He _understands_ , Damian.  We all do.  We all know how much you love Robin, and how hard this has been for you.  Bruce goaded you into reacting exactly as you did.  He isn’t going to punish you for acting in the way he wanted you to act.  You aren’t in trouble.  Bruce just wants you to rest for a bit before we go back at it.”

Dick’s hands slid forward from Damian’s shoulders to his chest, where he used the leverage to pull Damian backwards.  Damian allowed himself to be pulled back into the warm embrace of his brother.  He curled his legs up and snuggled back into Dick as the elder leaned back in the chair.

Comfortable silence reigned for a minute before Damian whispered, “I just want to know that she’s safe.  Why did Penguin have to take her?  If he wanted to kidnap the child of a rich person, why didn’t he kidnap me?  I can be ransomed for far more that Robin can, and I can handle myself in that kind of situation far better than Robin can.”

“You heard the recording.  Penguin wants legal access to an almost never ending source of money.  Bruce wasn’t in the position to offer that, but Mike was.  Besides, would you really want to be kidnapped?”

Damian took a deep breath.  “If it meant that Robin was safe, I would walk back into Two Face’s torture dungeon without a second thought.  I wouldn’t care if he broke me in half this time, so long as I could be assured that Robin was safe at home before he did anything.”

Dick’s arms tightened around Damian.  “Don’t say things like that.  Two Face nearly did break you in half last time.  I, for one, don’t want to ever see you looking like that again.”

Damian sighed, “I know one thing, though.  If it _was_ me who was kidnapped, Father wouldn’t stop for lunch until he found me.”

Dick smirked, “If it was you who were kidnapped, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, because you would break out before Bruce even knew you were gone.”

A short laugh from the boy signaled a lightening of the mood that had settled over the pair.  Dick continued, “Okay now?  Do you want to get back to work?”

Damian pressed himself back into Dick’s grasp.  “Yes…in about five minutes.”

Several minutes later, and after the abused table was righted, the D’s headed back inside, where Damian split off to the kitchen to apologize to Alfred for his earlier attitude.  Alfred joked that he was only accepting the apology because Damian had picked up the table he had knocked over outside, but the wink and grin softened the delivery.

Dick and Damian moved back towards the cave, but found Bruce and Tim in the living room, reading the newspaper.  “Ready to get going again?” Bruce asked.

“Yes,” Dick said as Bruce and Tim rose.

“No,” Damian said, catching shocked looks from everyone in the room.  “A word, Father?”

Bruce nodded at Tim and Dick, who walked from the room.  Bruce turned to Damian, who had walked closer.  “Which word is that?”

Damian hugged Bruce tightly and whispered, “Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

Bruce returned the hug with a warm smile.  “That’s five words, son, and your welcome.”

Damian pulled back after a short minute and looked up at Bruce’s face.  “We need to find a way to accomplish the same thing that Grayson said you were trying, without getting to the point where either of us needs to explode.”

Bruce smiled gently.  “We do.  It’s called communication, and giving the benefit of the doubt to each other.  I’m sorry that I’m not a good role model when it comes to that.  I guess we’re too much alike, Damian.”

Damian smirked, “I’ll have to work on fixing that, Father.”

Bruce ruffled Damian’s hair with a smile and said, “Let’s go find that girlfriend of yours.”

Bruce and Damian entered the cave just as Tim was settling himself at the computer.

“Where do we start,” Damian asked to the room in general.

“Here,” Tim said, projecting a large map of the North Gotham Rail Yard on the main screen.  “The North Gotham Rail Yard, and surrounding buildings.  Six hundred seventy-five structures of storage and work spaces.  Do we want to go one-by-one, or try to narrow down the list some first?”

Bruce stroked his chin for a minute as he stared at the digital map.  Finally, he said, “Eliminate the buildings belonging to the railroad.  Those are manned around the clock.  It isn’t impossible that Penguin could be using one of those buildings, but it would be a logistical nightmare to keep everything a secret.”

Tim nodded, and was able to mark off close to one hundred of the buildings in question.

Dick nodded, and continued Bruce’s train of thought.  “You can also take any building belonging to any national or international shipping company off the map, too, and for the same reason.  They are moving freight at all hours, so they always have staffing there.”

“Good thinking,” Tim said, as another fifty buildings went dark on the map.

“Distance is a factor, too,” Damian said.  “Remember the recording.  The building we are looking for is close enough to hear the wheels on the tracks, but far enough that the bell was muted.”

Bruce looked at the boy critically.  “Estimate a distance, Damian.”

Damian thought for a second before shrugging and saying, “No closer than twenty meters from the tracks, no farther than three hundred meters.  Give or take.”

Bruce tapped Tim’s shoulder and another one hundred fifty buildings went dark.

Tim sighed, “Two hundred forty-eight buildings left.”

Dick looked at the extreme edges of the map and said, “Hey, Timmy.  Where exactly did the train leave from?  Which track was it on, and which direction did it go?”

Tim cross-referenced his previous research and highlighted a track on the screen.  “Track twelve, heading south.”

Dick leaned over Tim’s chair and said, “Where _exactly_ did it originate from?  Remember, we heard it building up speed at the beginning of the call.  It had to be just pulling out for us to hear that.”

Nodding, Tim adjusted the highlight to show where the train originated, and adjusted the darkened buildings accordingly.  Sixty buildings at the north end of the map darkened, but thirty-six more were added at the south end of the map.

Damian leaned against the back of the computer chair and said, “Trains have a speed limit while in the depot.  Is there any way to tell how fast the train is going by the sounds in the recording?”

Tim cocked his head, “Possibly.  It will require a bit of work to set up an algorithm, though.  Just out of curiosity, how will that help us?”

Damian explained, “We know where the train started.  We know the direction of travel.  We can figure out how long it takes a freight train to get up to depot speed.  We already have the time from when it left, to when it was up to speed.  We can put all of that together and figure out just how far down the track from the starting point we should be looking for potential buildings.”

Tim was smiling at the explanation.  “Now I know why the Warrington School allows you to be three years ahead of grade level.”

Bruce was still looking at the map as he said, “Your plan will find us the exact building, but it will take some time.  We have one hundred buildings lining the tracks in the potential zone of interest.  Tim, print out a list of the buildings and divide it by four.  We’ll look at them that way for anything suspicious.”

Dick and Tim were looking at Damian, expecting another outburst, since his plan was being vetoed.  Instead, Damian just shrugged.  “That would be faster, and time is of the essence.”

Dick sighed in relief as Tim handed out the printed lists.

Twenty minutes later, Dick laughed at the list he was perusing.  “Seriously?  He can’t have made it that easy, could he?”

“What is it, chum,” Bruce asked, interested in their first potential lead.

Dick pointed at his list.  “Look at this.  The local distributing warehouse for Penguin Publishing is located next door to the main manufacturing facility for the Puffin Umbrella Company.”

Bruce’s eyes widened while Tim shook his head and said, “Remember when the bad guys used to be clever?”

Damian approached the table and asked slowly, “It can’t be that easy, can it?”

Bruce shrugged, “Stranger things have happened.”

Damian looked around, confused.  “Well, now what?  I mean, these are the types of places that, if he isn’t there, he’ll be watching them, because people like us will _think_ he’s there.  If we go check it out, and he’s not there, he’ll know we’re looking for him.  It might make him move the girls, or even make him believe that they are more trouble than they’re worth, and just kill them and abandon his plan.  What then?”

Bruce sighed, “No use looking for trouble.  It will find us, no matter what.  We have to follow the leads we have.  We’ll take a look tonight and go from there.  Are there any other places on any of your lists that might be a probable location?”  Three matching, shaken heads met his gaze.  “Well, rest up.  It sounds like this is going to be a busy night.”

Dick and Bruce left the cave as Tim was saving their search results.  He was surprised when he turned to leave the cave that Damian was still standing next to the computer chair.

“Damian?”

“We’ll find your friend, Drake,” Damian said, coming forward and hugging Tim awkwardly.

Shocked, Tim returned the hug and asked, “Are you trying to comfort me, Damian?”

“Is it not working?”

Tim gave a short laugh at the boy’s tone and said, “It is, but I think I’m not the one here who needs it.  It’s okay to be nervous, Little D.”

Damian sighed, “Good, because I don’t know how else to feel right now.”

_That night…_

Following a restless afternoon and a tense dinner, the bats piled into the Batmobile for the trip to the warehouse district surrounding the rail yard.  Unlike most nights, where the car would be filled with the talk of battle plans and methods of action, tonight found a deathly silence filling the vehicle.

Had he not been wearing his gauntlets, Batman’s white knuckles would have been visible from outside of the tinted windows, with as hard as he was gripping the steering wheel.  Nightwing was trying not to fidget in his seat.  He kept his feet firmly pressed into the floorboards to keep his legs still.  Red Robin was reviewing building schematics on the in-car tablet, his hand shaking as he adjusted his view.  Robin pulled a picture from the inside of his glove and stared at it longingly.  Alfred had made sure that Damian and Robin posed for a picture at the Fourth of July Party.  It was now serving as the wallpaper on his laptop.  He had printed out a small version of that picture and carefully cut himself out of the picture, for safety sake.  The only visible part of the boy left in the picture was a suited arm, wrapped around Robin’s shoulders.

Red Robin looked over, patted Robin’s knee, and whispered, “It ends tonight.  Try to remember that, Little Bat.”

Robin looked up and gave a weak smile, but thought he might throw up if he opened his mouth, so he didn’t reply.  Red Robin understood the feeling and nodded at the youthful vigilante.

“We’re here,” Batman said, tension evident in his voice.

Concerned, Nightwing turned to look back at Robin, but it wasn’t necessary.  Batman’s short announcement had the effect of turning ‘Robin’ on in the child.  Any nerves or uncertainty disappeared from his features, leaving only the young soldier he had spent a lifetime training to be.  Nightwing wished his own switch could be flipped so easily.

The Bats ascended to the roof of a warehouse several hundred feet from their target buildings.  Guards could be seen patrolling the roof of the umbrella factory.

Nightwing shrugged and whispered, “There must be too much daily traffic at the book distributor.”

Red Robin spoke up.  “I read in the car on the way over here that the Puffin Umbrella Company went out of business about four months ago.  It must be perfect for Penguin.”

“How do you want to play this,” Robin asked.

“How do _you_ want to play this,” Batman replied.

“You don’t want to know how I want to play this.”

Batman turned to face his son.  “Yes, Robin, I actually do want to know.  I need to know that you are going to be able to stick to a plan once this all goes down.”

Robin looked down, “I won’t kill anyone.  That’s about the best I can promise right now.”

“I need more than that, Robin.”

“I know you do, so give me a plan.”

Batman sighed and shook his head, “Mike signed the papers this morning, so we only have a couple hours before Penguin expects the pipeline to be signed over to him.  We have less than that to finish this.  Nightwing, you and I will look for the Penguin.  Robin… _Robins_ …you two find the girls.  Once you do, Robin, you are on protective detail.  Don’t let either of them out of your sight.  Red, it’s your job to clear a path for Robin and the girls out of the building.  We don’t know how many men will be in there, so if you need help, call.  Either Nightwing or I will come.  Nightwing, the guards on the roof are yours.”  Nightwing grinned and ghosted away to take care of his assignment.

“Robin, until we split to find the girls, you don’t leave my side.  Got it?”

“Yes, Batman,” Robin said quietly.

“And?”

“And, don’t let the girls out of my sight.  Is that safe, though?  I mean, almost my whole face is visible.  Robin knows my features.  She knows my voice.  Won’t she be able to recognize me?”

Batman looked annoyed at the oversight in his plan.  “You can change your voice, can’t you?”

Robin looked unsure.  “I’ll try.  I might not be able to keep it up long, though.  Mimicking is hard enough when you aren’t being attacked or under stress.”

“Do your best, son,” Batman said quietly.

“Robin, you may not want to hear this, but Robin…uh, _other_ Robin…is probably so scared right now that she would have a hard time recognizing her own parents, much less you in a mask, especially is she isn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Robin paled and turned to Red Robin, “You’re right, that doesn’t help at all.”

Nightwing’s voice crackled over the radio, “Guards are down, approach is clear.  There is an oscillating camera over the front door.”

“Follow me,” Batman said, “Stay close.”

Batman took off into the night, his sons following in his wake, as they made their way to the side of the building.  They avoided the camera, and met Nightwing at a loading dock, where they entered the building.

The interior of the building was pitch black.  It was hard to tell the size of the room with all of the windows boarded up.  The bats took an experimental few steps forward in silence, until a voice rang out, stopping them in their tracks.

“I really shouldn’t be surprised.  Abbey called the cops; it makes sense that he would try to get you to find his hatchlings.”

Light flared in the open space, dazzling everyone in the room.  Penguin stood on a second floor walkway, giving him a commanding view of the former loading dock.  On one side of the room stood our four vigilantes.  On the other side of the room, under the Penguin, stood forty henchmen, all blinking stars from their eyes.

“God damn it, Rollo.  Wait until I give you the signal before turning the lights back on.  We talked about this!” Penguin yelled at a subordinate while blinking.  “How much is Abbey paying you, Batman?  Let this deal go through and I’ll triple it.”

“You know I’m not for sale, Cobblepot,” Batman growled.  “Where are the hostages?  Make this easy on your men.”

Penguin shook his head, “Forty against four.  The odds aren’t exactly in your favor, Batman.”

“Looks pretty even to me, Penguin,” Nightwing said with a smirk.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that the four of you stand a chance against my men, but what do you think your chances are of stopping them before they kill the hostages?”

Robin growled and started forward, but didn’t even make it a step before both Batman and Nightwing grabbed his cape and held him in place.

Penguin smiled, “A little dissention in the ranks, Batman?  You can’t possibly fight through all of my men before one of them is able to get to the cell and execute those sweet little girls.  They have become more trouble than they’re worth, now.  Deal or no deal, your involvement changes everything.  Bravo team, Charlie team, Delta team, take out these flying rodents and bird boys.  Alpha team, make sure those girls suffer before they die.”

The vigilantes stood, shocked at the orders they just heard given, for a second, as ten of the Penguin’s men flanked off of the main group and headed off down a back hallway.

A battle cry pierced the silence as Robin ran at full speed towards the goons.  Red Robin’s eyes widened under his cowl, and he said, “Oh my god.  He just went full Leeroy Jenkins.”

“Go!  Go!  Go!” Batman shouted.

Up ahead, Robin met the first line of defense.  The boy didn’t slow down as he slid under the legs of the first henchman he reached.  Resuming his sprint, Robin leapt up and vaulted over a second henchman, jabbing a green-gloved finger into the man’s eye as he continued towards the back hall.

Batman dodged a flying punch, still startled that Robin was able to make it out of the loading dock without being stopped by any of the Penguin’s men.  _I did tell him to guard the girls,_ Batman thought, _he better be careful._

“Red, try to get to him,” Batman shouted.

“A little busy here, but I’ll try,” was shouted in reply.

Nightwing fought his way to Batman’s side.  “Batman, go get the Penguin.  He can’t get away with this.  Red and I can handle these guys.”

“Are you crazy,” Batman asked.

Nightwing smirked, “Thirty against two?  Little Bird and I’ve done it before.”

Batman glanced toward the back hall, but Nightwing said, “He’ll be fine.  He has far more motivation than any of us right now.  I almost feel sorry for those henchmen.”

Batman grappled to the second floor of the building as Nightwing jumped back into the fight.  Penguin had waddled off when the fighting started, but Batman soon caught up to him, and made him regret his choice of targets.

In the back hallway, Robin made quick work of the first five guards.  He found it difficult to pull his punches against men who were choosing to follow orders to kill his girlfriend, but the promise he made to Batman kept running through his mind.  Given the narrow hallway, and his small size, Robin was able to avoid having to fight more than one guard at a time, while they found it impossible to touch the slight youth.  He scythed through the first five guards, giving him hope that Penguin had opted for the bargain basement hoods.

At the end of the hallway was a room that formerly was used as an assembly hall.  The remaining five guards were arranged around the room, waiting for Robin.

One said, “What do you think?  Penguin said to make them suffer.  How about we kill this one in front of them?  That ought to make them good and scared, before we off them.”

The others nodded, and Robin gave a small smirk.  _If they’re focused on me, they aren’t trying to kill the girls_.  Robin pointed at the one who had spoken and said, “That’s cute.  I’ll save you for last.”

Robin sparred with the two closest goons for several minutes before they broke apart.  A goon said, “You know why Penguin calls us the Alpha squad?  It’s because we’re the best he has.”

Robin smirked and launched a flying kick at the mouthy guard, knocking him down and out in a matter of seconds.  “You’re the best he has?  I’m less than impressed, and I feel a little sorry for the state of henchmen as a whole, if that is really the case.”

A second goon went down under a series of hard punches.  The remaining henchmen tried to surround Robin in a triangle.  Robin punched at one, who caught the boy’s arm, holding it tight.  Distracted, Robin’s other arm was seized by a second guard.  The final guard, who was the first one to speak to Robin, walked up and said, “Still saving me for last?”  He then turned and delivered a sharp side kick, his boot landing squarely over Robin’s eye mask.

The blow launched Robin back towards the wall, where he crashed through a door into a small storage room.  A high-pitched scream met the end of Robin’s flight.  Shaking his head to clear his sudden dizziness, he looked to his right and found the face for which he had longed for days.

A smile broke out on the boy’s face as he stood up and said, “Hey.  Wait here for a minute, okay?”  A numb nod met his request.

Robin left the storage room where Robin and Gina hugged each other tightly.  Outside of the room, grunts, shouts, thumps, and crashes met the girl’s ears for close to two minutes.  Finally, the room went quiet, and a shadow could be seen approaching the room.  Shaking, the girls were overcome with dread as the shadow moved closer, until the smirking Robin, the Boy Wonder, stepped into the doorway.

“Are you two okay?”  Robin asked.

Both Robin and Gina nodded for a second, before their heads changed direction to emphatically shake ‘no’.  The Boy Wonder seemed to sigh as he took a slow step into the room.  He held out his hands to the girls and said, “You’re safe now.  Come with me, I’ll get you out of here and back home.  Your parents miss you, a lot.”

Shakily, Robin and Gina took the boy’s hands and allowed themselves to be pulled to their feet.  Robin, Gina, and Robin left the small room, glad that this nightmare was finally over.

“Let me call Batman and make sure the rest of the building is clear.”

Robin reached up to activate his radio when his shoulder was grabbed roughly.  He was violently whipped around, and found himself face to face with the lead guard, who Robin thought had been knocked out.

“Little bastard,” was growled into his face as a large fist caught the boy’s cheek and sent him hard to the floor.

An instant later, two shots rang out, echoing infinitely in Robin’s ears as he popped his head back up and cried out, “NO!”

 

**A/N:  Well, I think this is coming along nicely.  Unfortunately, I have run out of time.  Preparing to move has now turned into needing to move now.  Sorry, but I will be offline for a few weeks while I get everything moved and settled in my new place.  I hope you understand that life gets in the way sometimes.  I hope to get everything done, and the next chapter written and posted sometime around the first week of November.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	7. 7

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 7

**(Note: Come on, did you really think I would leave you for a month with that cliffhanger?)**

“NO!”

The gunshots echoed in Robin’s head long after his pained shout faded from the room.  Robin looked up, expecting the worst, only to find the mouthy henchman slumped and moaning softly on the ground, a pool of dark blood growing slowly around the body.  Confused, Robin turned his head to find the girls cowering for safety behind…

“Hood?”

Robin could hear the smirk in the older man’s voice, even though he couldn’t see it through the helmet.  “How many times am I going to have to come to your rescue, Squirt?”

Blushing at the name, especially in front of his girlfriend, Robin said, “How many times have you come to my rescue in the past?”

“I can think of a couple,” Hood said with a shrug.  “Anyway, I figured I owed you this one, after what I did to you this morning.”

Still confused, Robin asked, “How did you know where we are?”

“A little Birdie told me,” Hood said cryptically.  What he didn’t share was, while Tim was following the several trackers Alfred had hidden in Jason’s clothes, he had also texted him updates on the search for the girls.  He guessed that Tim was trusting in the family instincts of the man.

Robin stood and walked over to the moaning guard.  He kicked the man to roll him over onto his back, but found him to be unconscious.  Robin kicked the man again for good measure, then knelt down and bound the man.

As he walked to the second goon, he said over his shoulder, “There are five more in the hallway.  Can you tie them up?”

“Sure,” Red Hood said, holstering his pistol.

Batman’s voice crackled over the comm.  “Robin!  Robin, answer me.  Who is shooting?  Are you okay?  Answer me, damn it!”

“Here, Batman,” Robin said tiredly, walking to tie up his last henchman.  “Everything’s under control.”  Robin looked over at Robin, who was occasionally glancing at the boy.  “Mission accomplished.”

Relief was evident in Batman’s voice as he said, “Who was shooting?”

Robin stared at Red Hood, who was re-entering the room.  He could see Hood sigh before activating his microphone, “That would be me, Batman.”

A stunned silence was broken several long seconds later, when Batman said breathlessly, “Red Hood?”

“Someone has to watch out for the little one.”

Robin blushed again as Batman said, “Thank you.  Situation is clear here, come back to the loading dock when you’re done there.”

“On our way, Batman,” Robin said before muting his microphone.  “Hood, you want to take the lead?”

Red Hood looked between Robin and the girls and nodded slightly.  “Sure.  Girls, follow me.  Stay close, okay?”

More than anything else in the world at that moment, Robin wanted to sweep Robin off of her feet and never let her go, but he knew Batman would kill him for revealing himself like that.  He took the end of the line for several reasons.  He wanted to keep his word to Batman and not take his eyes off the girls.  The last time he did, he thought he lost them permanently for the longest second of his life.  He secretly wanted a reason to stare at Robin, following the old saying ‘I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave’.  Robin had been giving him some inquisitive looks while in the assembly room, and he needed a way to get her curious gaze off of him.

As they walked, Robin’s mood started to sour.  _This is torture.  She’s five feet in front of me, and I can’t even acknowledge her existence as anything more than another victim.  Look at her, she looks like she needs a hug as much as I do.  I have to be careful, though.  She already looks suspicious.  I don’t think I disguised my voice well enough.  I couldn’t help it, though.  It was such a shock to see her.  It’s the last thing I want to do, but I think I need to get away from her as soon as possible._

While Robin was having his inner monologue, Gina and Robin were talking, just loud enough to be heard by the leading and trailing vigilantes.

“Is this really happening, Gina?  Were we really kidnapped by villains and rescued by superheroes?”

Gina gave her first smile in days.  “It looks that way, Robin.  Daddy is never going to let us out of his sight again.”

Robin sighed heavily.  “I can’t wait to get home.  I’m dying for a shower, and you don’t know just how much I want to hear Damian’s voice again.  He’s never going to believe what happened.  He must be so worried.”

Gina looked over and asked, “Do you think he even knows we were kidnapped?”

Robin said thoughtfully, “Somehow, I think he knows.”

The Boy Wonder swallowed roughly and stared with wide eyes under his mask.  _Oh, Robin.  If only you knew how worried I am._

Red Hood turned his head slightly, and Robin rolled his eyes, knowing what the elder man was thinking.

Gina looked back at Robin and smirked slightly.  “I wonder how much it costs to rent a crime fighter to solve a kidnapping.  Mom and Daddy must be beside themselves.”

Robin nodded vaguely, exhaustion starting to set in as the adrenaline ebbed and it looked like everything was over.  Gina nudged the younger girl and said, “That Robin is cute, though.  Don’t you think?”

Robin looked back at Robin, who was doing his best to pretend that he hadn’t been listening.  Robin turned back to Gina and said, “I guess, but I’m not really interested.  You know I love Damian.  He would probably freak if he knew you were trying to get me interested in someone else.”

A quick grin split the boy’s face as Gina continued, “Still, he did save our lives.  Don’t you think a kiss is in order for the hero?”

Red Hood tried to stifle a laugh, and had to cover it poorly with a cough.  Gina stopped and turned to the trailing youth.  “Excuse me?  Robin?”  She giggled, “Robin, this is Robin.  Robin, Robin.”  Gina placed her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders.  “My little sister would like to reward you for your efforts, but she is a little conflicted.”

Robin’s eyes widened.  “I didn’t sign up for this, Gina.  What do you think you’re doing?”

Gina ignored her and continued, “You see, she has a boyfriend that she is really hung up on.  She thinks even looking at another boy is cheating.  Now, I’m guessing that the two of you are probably around the same age, and I don’t think it would be the worst thing in the world if she were to offer a little…kiss?  As a token of our gratitude?”

Both Robins blushed a deeper red than the boy’s uniform.  Robin coughed and disguised his voice again.  Meeting Robin’s eyes through his mask, he said, “You shouldn’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with, but if this boyfriend of yours is any sort of understanding person, I don’t think he will mind.”

Robin nodded, looked up at Gina in askance, then back at Robin.  Slowly, she walked forward and nervously kissed Robin’s cheek.  The point of contact flamed in the same way it had the first time she had kissed his cheek at the Spring Party, and it took every ounce of self-control the boy had, and then some, to resist taking his love in his arms.  He was glad that she couldn’t see his eyes, but the blush and the uncontrollable smile couldn’t be hidden.

The girl backed away slowly, until she ran into Gina.  Robin thought she looked more suspicious than ever as to his identity, but they continued towards the loading dock without another word.

Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin turned as they heard a feminine gasp come from the entrance of the back hallway.  Robin and Gina both had matching shocked looks on their faces at the piles of bound and unconscious minions arrayed around the dock.  Batman smiled softly as he saw Red Hood lead the girls to a low bench in the corner to sit down.  Robin looked lost as he numbly walked over to Nightwing.

Nightwing looked down at his youngest brother and asked softly, “Are you okay?”

“I should be, but I’m not,” Robin said.  “This is torture, Nightwing.  She’s right there, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  I think she’s already suspicious of me, and Hood really didn’t help anything on the way back here.  He did save the day, though, so I can cut him a little slack.”

“It’ll be okay, little brother.  Everything will work out.”

Robin sighed, “Yeah, but look at her.  She’s in shock.  She needs a friendly face right now, and I can’t give it to her.  Father will kill me if we’re found out and it’s my fault.”

Robin turned forlornly and walked away to sit against the far wall.  Nightwing and Red Robin joined him, trying to comfort the youth.

Red Hood approached Batman almost sheepishly.  “Looks like I missed most of the fun.”

“You turned up when it mattered, and that’s what counts in my book.  What happened back there?”

Red Hood looked over at the youth in the mask, then at the two girls.  Both of the ones who went by Robin wore matching looks of depression.  “The little squirt was taking the girls out of the storage room they were being held in when I got there.  One of the goons got up and grabbed Robin, uh… _our_ Robin.  He decked the kid and was reaching for a gun.  I couldn’t get to him in time, so I put a couple rounds into him, one in the shoulder and one in the knee.  He’s still alive, but he’ll wish he wasn’t when he wakes up.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Batman repeated.

“No.  That wouldn’t have helped anything back there.”

Batman looked critically at his second son.  “How about your other task tonight?”

Red Hood huffed testily.  “I didn’t kill him, either.  I wanted to.  Believe me, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

Intrigued by the choice of words, Batman asked, “What happened?”

Red Hood shook his head.  “I found Willis pretty easily.  He was a mess.  His conscience is slowly killing him, to the point where he begged me to kill him.  I held the gun to his head, and then I looked at him.  I saw the drug addicted man who killed everyone in that building, but then, I saw Kevin.  I saw the man who I helped to unload the truck when he first moved in.  I saw the man who helped the landlord trim the bushes when he was too sick to do it himself.  I saw the man who helped Mrs. Peabody from across the street plant flowers in her window box.  Then, I saw the broken man, kneeling before me, begging me to put him out of his misery, because his actions had killed everyone who had been nice to him over the last few years.”

“What did you do,” Batman asked, hanging on every word of the tale.

Hood sighed, “I put my gun away.  I don’t know where it came from, but I talked to him.  Yesterday, I wouldn’t have thought that was possible, but I talked to him.  I told him that everyone on a downward slide needs to hit rock bottom before they can work their way back up again.  Once you hit bottom, then you can bounce back.  I asked him how the rocks felt.  He seemed to think about that, and I took him to the police substation.  I think he’s going to be okay, and I think I’m okay with that now.”

Batman gripped Hood’s shoulder and said quietly, “I’m proud of you, son.”

Batman could tell the man was blushing under his hood as he turned back to the room.  He thought to himself, _this is too much to stand.  I’ll probably never hear the end of it, but it’s necessary, just this once._

“Robin.”  Two heads turned in his direction, nearly causing a smile to break through on his features.  Nightwing snorted in laughter as Batman continued.  “Gina, come here.”

The girls approached the dark, imposing figure of the night warily.  Batman spoke when they were close enough.  “Your parents have been called and notified that you are safe.  They are on their way.  For your sake, I’ll wait to notify the police until your parents get here.  I figured you would want a few minutes alone with them before the police get here and start questioning you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Batman,” Gina said, holding on to Robin.

“One more thing.”  All eyes in the building turned to Batman as Bruce’s voice came from under the cowl.  Gina and Robin were looking at the man strangely as the somewhat familiar voice asked, “Are you okay?  Did they hurt you at all?”

“No.  No, they didn’t hurt us…wait.  Your voice is different.”  Gina looked closer at the bit of visible face under the cowl.  Robin, on the other hand, turned and stared at Robin.  Gina reached up, but stopped before touching the exposed chin.  “ _Mr. Wayne?_ ” she whispered.

This time, a smile broke out on the man’s face as he put a gauntleted finger to his lips and shushed the girl.  Gina’s jaw dropped as Robin staggered across the room.

Nightwing and Red Robin moved away as Robin stood nervously before the approaching girl.  Robin looked over at Batman, who nodded his approval at the boy.

The girl reached up with a shaking hand, her fingers coming close to the boy’s mask, intent on seeing if it really was someone familiar under the green eye cover.  Robin flinched back and grabbed her hand gently, quietly saying, “No.  Not here.  It has to stay on.”

“But,” she started, emotions more confused than they had ever been, “but…it _is_ you?  I mean, I thought it was your voice, but I also thought it was wishful thinking.  You’re really…Damian?  You’re really Robin?”

Taking a deep, nervous breath, Robin reached up and retracted his eye lenses, revealing the blue that the girl was desperate to see.  Robin gasped as she saw the truth.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“You came for me,” she said, starting to cry.

“I’ll always come for you.  Nothing will stop me; you know that now.  But, please, never make me have to come for you again.  I can’t do this again.”

Robin flung herself at the boy, who had never held on to anything else as tightly as he held on to the girl.

Across the room, Gina sidled up to Red Robin and said, “Your family has some weird hobbies.”

Tearing his eyes from the love birds as he slung an arm around the teen, Red Robin said, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.  Aren’t you glad you said yes to that movie a couple months ago now?”

Gina laughed as she enfolded herself in Red Robin’s embrace.  “My parents always did say that I have good taste in friends.”

Several minutes later, a breathless Mike and Lisa Abbey ran into the loading dock.  They stopped when they saw the girls, both standing and looking emotional, but otherwise unharmed.

“Oh, thank god,” Mike said loudly, as they headed for the girls.

They were intercepted by Batman before they could get very far into the building.  “Come with me,” Batman said.

“Not until I see my girls, Batman,” Mike said, parental urges lending steel to his voice.

“I said, come with me,” Batman growled, giving them no choice but to follow him into a small office.

Gina looked over and asked, “Tim, what is he doing?”

Red Robin shrugged, “He’s probably going to let them in on the same secret you learned tonight.  It has to stay a secret; you understand, right?  I am Red Robin.  You have no idea who is under this mask, or under any other mask, for that matter.  The police _will_ ask you.  You can’t give any indication that you know about us.”

“I…I understand, Ti…Red Robin.”  She stopped and laughed.

“What,” Red Robin asked, confused.

“I finally understand why Damian was laughing when we went out for lunch.  What did he say?  ‘Do you think there’s anything wrong with Red Robin?’  That is hilarious now.”

_Meanwhile…_

Mike was livid as Batman closed the door to the office.  “Okay, Batman.  What’s so damned important that you had to take us away from our girls?  Are we going to discuss your fee now?”

Batman shook his head sadly before making sure there was no way to see into the office.  Once he was sure it was safe, he said, “I’m trusting you with a lot right now, Mike.  I trust you aren’t going to let me down.”

Before either Abbey could respond, Batman pulled back his cowl, revealing Bruce’s sweaty face.

Mike’s eyes widened comically, and he said, “Oh my god, Bruce.  What the hell are you doing?  If the real Batman finds out you’re impersonating him, he’s going to hunt you down and…oh, shit.”  Realization dawned on the man, “Bruce, is this some kind of sick joke?  You’re…you’re really Batman?”

Lisa’s jaw dropped as she looked back and forth between the men.  Mike ran his fingers through his hair in shock.

Bruce said calmly, “It’s only fair that I tell you now, since the girls found out tonight, as well.  They’re okay, Mike, Lisa.  They weren’t hurt.”

“I can’t believe this.  What…how… _why_ do you do this?”

Bruce took a deep breath and said softly, “Because no one ever found my parent’s killer.  No child should have to live with that burden, so I’ve dedicated my life to making sure no child will ever know that pain.  I can’t win them all, in fact, I can only win a scant few, but even one less is a victory.”

Lisa came forward and hugged Bruce tightly.  “God bless you, Bruce Wayne,” she whispered, “Thank you for finding our daughters.”

She pulled back, and Bruce said, “Do I even need to say how important it is to keep this secret a secret?  If this ever gets out, it will literally mean the end of my family.”

Lisa looked at Bruce strangely and said, “Your family?  You mean…those are your boys out there, aren’t they.”

Bruce nodded, and Lisa gave a wry smile.  “That is hilarious.  Robin and Robin.  Damian _is_ Robin, right?”  Bruce gave a grin and a nod.  “How has no one made that joke, or that connection, yet?”

Bruce smirked and leaned in, like he was imparting a dear secret.  “We’ve been making that joke since the day they met.”

Robin looked over Robin’s shoulder as the door to the office opened.  He reluctantly released the girl, much to her dismay, and whispered, “You should go.”

“You want me to leave,” Robin said in a hurt tone.

Robin shook his head, “No.  I never want to let you go again, but neither do your parents.  Your dad is coming, and as much as I missed you, he missed you more.”

Mike came up behind the girl as Damian let her go.  As much as she hated to leave the boy’s arms, she was almost magnetically drawn to her father’s tight embrace.  Mike crushed the girl to his chest as tears slipped unrestrained from his eyes.  Robin turned to walk away, but his shoulder was caught by Mike’s hand.

Robin turned and grasped the outstretched hand as Mike said softly, “Thank you, Damian.”

“It’s Robin, sir,” the boy said as he slid his eye lenses closed.  “It’s a name that has far more meaning now.  I’ve worn it as a tradition, carried on from those who wore it before.  Now, I wear it in the hopes of safeguarding all of the Robin’s out there.  She will always be at the top of that list, Mr. Abbey.”

Mike smiled, “Well, no matter what you choose to call yourself, you are truly our hero today.  I can’t thank you enough for giving me my baby back.”

Mike returned to hugging his daughter.  When he looked up again, the vigilante family was gone.

 

**A/N: Okay, I admit, every part of this story, including last chapter’s cliffhanger, and the fake announcement of a hiatus, were planned months ago.  Sometimes, it’s just fun to do something for a reaction.**

**That said, it wasn’t a total lie.  I finished moving last weekend, but I wasn’t moving too far, and all the utilities were set up at the new place before I moved in, so I was only offline for a day or so.  Like I said, I just wanted to see the reaction after the cliffhanger.  Would I ever take a break in the middle of a story like that?  Well, yes, I would, but it would have to be something more serious than just moving to the next city to get a better rent to keep me offline for long.  Please don’t hate me, it was all in good fun.**

**One more chapter to go.  It will be up by next weekend at the latest.  If I have some extra time, I will try to get it out this weekend, but don’t hold me to that, just in case.**

**Reviews are the writer’s crack, please feed my addiction.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	8. 8

The Fire That Burns

Chapter 8

 

“Master Wayne, you have a visitor.”

Bruce sighed.  “Alright, Alfred, but I can’t guarantee I will be a good host right now.”

The completion of a case usually lent a calm to Bruce’s demeanor.  The four days following the rescue of Mike Abbey’s daughters and the arrest of the Penguin had allowed little in the way of calm to invade his home.  The original kidnapping of Gina and Robin had been a third page story at best.  In a town as crime-ridden as Gotham City, the abduction of a millionaire’s daughters just wasn’t that big of a deal.  When it was revealed that the Penguin was involved, the story was bumped up to the second page, and a short blurb made the evening news, just before the second commercial break in the broadcasts on two local stations.  The announcement from Commissioner Gordon of the arrest of the Penguin, along with forty of his henchmen, and the safe return of the girls, by Batman and his sidekicks, had thrown the story on to the front pages, and led the eleven o’clock news on three national channels.

Bruce had watched every newscast and read every paper covering the story with a fist clenching his stomach, waiting for any of the news outlets to reveal Batman’s identity.  With each day that passed without a flock of reporters and police beating down his door, the fist loosened its grip, but it was still there.  Alfred and Dick knew what Bruce was going through, but he had done his best to hide his reaction from his youngest two sons.  Bruce knew that being free to reveal their identities to their trusted friends had made Tim and Damian very happy, and he wasn’t about to spoil their joy with his…Bruce-ness.

If Bruce had been tense and nervous, Damian had seemed unusually calm.  Knowing that Robin was no longer in the clutches of the Penguin, and the fact that they spoke for hours a day on the phone and Skype, had led the boy to relax in a way that Bruce couldn’t just yet.

“I believe your guests will be able to aid your discomfort, sir,” Alfred said as he showed Mike Abbey and Robin into the front sitting room.  Bruce smiled at the way Robin was clinging to her father, yet was determinedly looking around the room.  Bruce knew she wasn’t looking at the furnishings, but was hoping to see a certain someone sitting in one of the many chairs in the room.

“Hello, Mike,” Bruce greeted the only one of the pair who was paying attention to him.

“Hello, Bruce,” Mike said, before gently nudging his daughter.

She looked up, seeming to see Bruce for the first time and said, “Oh.  Hi, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce grinned at the young teen and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I guess so,” she shrugged, “It all feels like just a bad dream.”

“That’s probably a good way to think about it,” Bruce said.  Finally, he smiled and asked, already knowing the answer, “Would you like to see Damian?”

Her face snapped up to meet Bruce’s with an excited smile on her face.  “May I?  Please?”

Bruce glanced over at Mike while chuckling and said, “He’s up in his room.  I believe you know where that is.”

Robin looked up at Mike, who patted her back and said, “Go on.  Just…have fun.”

Bruce’s eyes widened as the girl all but ran from the room.  Bruce motioned to a chair as he sat back in his own and said, “Are you sure you’re okay with two hormonal youths in a bedroom, alone?”

Mike sighed and said, “Robin and I had a long talk yesterday.  I made my feelings clear, as did she.  She knows Damian is too young for something like that.  So is she for that matter.  She admitted that herself.  Apparently, they came to some sort of agreement on their own that they would wait to take that step.  They may get close, but they won’t go all the way.  I trust her, Bruce.  Besides, I can think of a few worse things in this world than Robin getting knocked up by your son.”

Bruce looked a bit uncomfortable at the tone of the conversation, but said, “Damian and I have spoken, too.  He isn’t going to go too far.  Anyway, Dick and Tim are upstairs, too.  They won’t let them get in any trouble.  Now, what brings you over today, Mike?  Other than getting the kids some alone time, that is.”

“Please don’t phrase it that way, Bruce.  I like your kid, and he and Robin are just about perfect together, but it is still hard for me to think about how fast my little girl is growing up.  That said, the protective father instincts in me are telling me that there is probably no one better able to protect my daughter than your son, which is part of the reason I’m here.”

Bruce nodded as Alfred brought in two cups of coffee for his charge and his guest.  “Believe me, I understand just how quickly the young ones grow up.  For as much as I’ve only had Damian for less than three years, it’s amazing how much he’s changed in that short time.  So, I know what brought Robin over today, what brought you over today?”

Mike leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Gosh, too much, Bruce.  Two big things, which I’m sure will lead to several smaller things.  I guess first has to be, how do you do it?  How do you separate Bruce from Batman?”  Mike trailed off, his eyes widening, “Sorry, is it safe to talk about that here?”

Bruce had tried not to grimace, and failed.  It was safe, and the man was just trying to reconcile his friend with the vigilante, so Bruce let it go.  “We prefer not to talk about it up here, but it is safe.”

Mike looked strangely at Bruce.  “What do you mean, up here?”

Bruce smiled, “I suppose you’re familiar with the Bat Cave?”

Mike smiled, “The infamous lair of the Bat, where he plots his attacks against crime?  Who in Gotham _isn’t_ familiar with the Bat Cave?”

Bruce tried not to laugh as a man two years his junior gushed like a fanboy over his alter ego.  “Yeah, well, we just call it the basement.”

Mike’s jaw dropped in shock.  “Oh, Bruce.  You…you’re going to give me a peek at it, right?  I mean, come on…please?”

“I thought Damian and Robin were the children currently in the house?” Bruce said with a laugh.  “Frankly, that just isn’t a good idea.”

Mike almost pouted, but said, “I guess that’s okay.  Still, my birthday is coming up in November.  If you felt like getting me something, that might be a good gift idea.”

Bruce shook his head, “See?  This is why I don’t tell people what I do at nights.”

“Among other reasons, I’m sure.  How do you do it, though?  Even now, knowing what I know, I still have a hard time looking at you and thinking Batman.”

Bruce met and held Mike’s eyes.  “Good.  That’s the idea.  The less anyone associates me with Batman, the better.  Batman can’t have a known identity if he wants to effectively patrol the streets.”

Mike looked confused, “Then, why did you tell us?  We haven’t told anyone, and we never will, because we all understand the secret you entrusted to us, but why tell us at all?”

Bruce was silent for a minute as he thought about his answer.  “It wasn’t an easy decision.  If I had my way, no one but me would ever know about Batman.  If I did that, then I would be alone.  I’ve grown used to having people around, and I wouldn’t give up what Batman has brought into my life for anything.  That said, if you had seen the depressed looks on the Robins’ faces in that room, you would have had a hard time making any other decision.  Your Robin was depressed, for the obvious reasons.  My Robin was depressed because he had to sit there and watch your Robin be depressed, and he couldn’t do anything about it without revealing his identity.  I couldn’t stand there and watch out kids be that torn up, twenty feet from each other, and not do something about it.”

Mike was hanging on every word, like Bruce was pouring out the secrets of life.  Truly interested, Mike asked, “What kinds of things has Batman brought into your life that you wouldn’t give up?”

“I wouldn’t have my sons, for one thing.  If being Batman has done nothing else for me, it brought those four boys into my life, and for that I will always be grateful.”

Mike was leaning forward, and said softly, knowing that his request could be taken very badly.  “I know it’s very personal, but would you be willing to tell me how it happened?  How you ‘got your boys’, as you said?”

Bruce shrugged and said, “The way Damian and Robin are going, we will probably be family in a few years.  You might as well find out how the in-laws came to be.”  Bruce took a deep breath before starting.  “I was there, at the circus, the night that Dick’s parents were killed.  It was a tragedy, yes, but I wouldn’t have done anything if I hadn’t been Batman.  His parents were professionals, there is no way they would use inferior equipment.  I didn’t want Dick to grow up with the same uncertainty that I did.  He got to me in a way that no one ever had before, so I offered him a home.  He soon found out about Batman.  It’s hard to hide something like that from someone who sleeps across the hall from you.  I started training him, just to keep him busy, and to take his mind off of his parents, but he got so good.  I gave him a chance on the streets, and I’ve never regretted it.

“We got into a big fight when he was sixteen, and Dick left home.  It was completely my fault, but we didn’t talk for over a year, and it was six years before he finally came home.  After we fought, I had a rough night in Crime Alley.  When I got back to the Batmobile; no you can’t see that, either; I found a kid trying to steal the wheels from my car.  He ran off, but a couple days later, I ran across him again.  He witnessed a crime, and was running from a gang I was chasing.  I was able to get him into a shelter, but he wasn’t safe there.  He fought back against the gang.  He was doing pretty well, but he would have lost eventually, if I hadn’t stepped in.  He was untrained, but he had potential, and spirit.  I offered him a home, and Jason became my second son.”

Bruce looked a bit hesitant, but decided that he had come this far, he might as well go all the way.  “Let me preface this by saying that it gets a little weird from this point on.  A few years later, Jason was killed by the Joker.  Don’t ask me how he survived, or why, but he did.  However, he disappeared for years.  We thought he was dead.  I was…it wasn’t good, Mike.  Let’s just leave it at that.  No one should have to bury their children.  Apparently, I got sloppy during this time, because I was approached at my office one day by this snot-nosed brat, who talked his way past my secretary by telling her that he wanted to interview me for a school project.  She thought he was cute, and let him in, since I had a break in my schedule.  This kid flat out told me that he knew I was Batman, he knew that Robin was gone, and he wanted to apply for Robin, like it was a job.  I obviously had to watch this kid.  Unfortunately, he soon lost his family.  It took me a long time to warm up to him, but I’m so glad that Tim was able to pull me out of my own mind.

“For the longest time, Tim was the one who was the most like me.  That is, until I met Damian.  He really is my son.  I met his mother on a mission as Batman.  Okay, she drugged me and basically raped me, then hid the existence of our child from me until he was ten, but I’m trying to make that up to him now.  If Tim was somewhat like me in personality, and Dick was a dead ringer for me in the looks department when he was a boy, Damian really is a smaller version of me.  I love them all, and I never would have had any of them without Batman.”

Mike sat back, stunned, as he finished his cup of coffee.  He took several deep breaths before saying, “Wow.  You all go together so well.  I would never think they all had such diverse back stories.  That was incredibly personal, Bruce.  Why would you tell me all of that?”

Bruce shrugged again, looking down as he said, “You asked.  Also, I think you and I are past the secretive phase at this point.  I consider you a friend, Mike.  I don’t have many of those, especially since I have to play dumb at those society parties.”

“I take it that is another layer of Batman camouflage?”  Bruce nodded.  Mike sighed, “Well, it works.  I had no idea you were Batman until you told me, including when you were interrogating me about having something to do with the fires in town.”

Bruce winced, “Yeah, sorry about that.  Damian wasn’t too happy about me questioning you, either.”

Mike sounded intrigued, “Whatever happened with that whole fire thing, anyway?”

Bruce finally looked up and smiled.  “Damian and I caught Firefly last night.  He was trying to steal some propane cylinders and set off an alarm half a block from where we were staking out a gang.  It was a fluke, but it was the last piece we needed to close the case on the girl’s kidnapping.”

Mike almost looked pained.  “Do you ever feel bad, you know, for bringing the boys into that kind of night life?”

“Every day,” Bruce said quietly, “but I wouldn’t be me, and they wouldn’t be them, if I hadn’t.  Some dads go fishing with their sons, I fight crime with mine.”

Mike laughed at the comparison.  “I’m glad I never had to make that decision, Bruce.  And I’m glad that you did.  No matter how bad this city gets, it’s still home.”

Bruce nodded with a warm smile.  “That it is, Mike.  As screwed up as this city is, I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

Mike looked acutely uncomfortable at Bruce’s statement.  Bruce caught the look and asked, “What is it?”

The other man grimaced and sighed before saying, “The second thing I wanted to talk to you about today.  As you know, I am now the owner of a minor Alaskan oil pipeline.  The original plan, after the purchase was settled, was that I would spend a few months in Alaska, until the operation was up and running, then go back and forth between Gotham and Alaska a couple times a year.”

Bruce looked up, a strange feeling settling in his gut.  “The original plan?” he asked slowly.

Mike closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, “Yeah, the original plan.  The kidnapping changed everything, Bruce.  I could very easily be planning two funerals right now.  My girls didn’t do anything to deserve being kidnapped.  There was no sane reason to pull them into anything like what happened.  I…I looked into it, and it is actually more cost effective to run my business from Alaska than it is to run it from Gotham, even though fully eighty-five percent of my holdings are located within twenty miles of the city.  Gotham may be home, and it will always have a place in my heart, but I don’t feel my family is safe here anymore.  I have to put my family’s wellbeing at the top of everything.  We…we’re moving to Alaska.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped in shock, and he just stared at the man for a minute.  Eventually, he looked at the sitting room door, wondering if Damian knew yet.  “My god, Mike.  I mean, you have to do what is best for your family, but that’s a hell of a step.”

“It’s something I considered before the abduction.  That just put it over the top for me.”

“Alaska isn’t exactly the safest place in the world either, you know.”

Mike nodded, “I know, but so far, a grizzly bear hasn’t tried to kidnap my children.  I discussed this at length with the whole family, and we all agreed that this is the best thing for us right now.”

“Oh?” Bruce asked questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

Mike huffed.  “I’d be lying if I said that Robin was happy about it, but I’m not forcing her to move.  She does agree that she will feel safer somewhere else.  In fact, she told me that the only thing she will miss about Gotham City is Damian.  I told her that I am open to working out some sort of arrangements.  It really isn’t fair to tear them apart just to assuage my parental feelings, especially when I like Damian, and I like them as a couple.  He makes her more responsible, Bruce.”

Bruce was still trying to get over the shock of the news.  “I like them together, too, Mike.  Robin calms him, and some days, he needs more of that than I can provide.  He’s happier with her than he is just with us.  I can get behind arrangements.  They really are cute together.”  Bruce looked back at the door.  “I guess we should hold off on making arrangements until we know what happens between them.  I haven’t heard any shouting; she must not have told him yet.”

_Meanwhile, upstairs…_

After sneaking her way past the first door, which was open, and held two of Damian’s older brothers, who may or may not have seen her pass, Robin stood in front of the second door on the left.  The door to Damian’s bedroom was open, revealing a space she had only visited once, yet at the same time, a space that held such good memories for the girl.  She took a step into her boyfriend’s space just a little hesitantly.  She had been allowed up, but hadn’t been invited in.  Robin knew Damian wouldn’t turn her away, but like a vampire, she felt she needed to be invited in.  He was a very private person, even with her, and she loved him too much to intrude.

“You can come in, you know.  You may be the only living person who never has to ask.”

Robin smiled as she heard his voice, but the look fell quickly.  She had looked everywhere she could, but was unable to see the one she loved from the entryway.

“Where are you,” she finally asked, taking a couple steps into the room.  She considered closing the door, but didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about her visit.  They were madly in love, but they had agreed to wait until they were older for anything more in depth than what they had now.

A hand was raised and waved on the far side of the bed, and she smiled as she walked around the piece of furniture.  Damian was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.  She looked around, but Damian seemed to just be sitting, staring into space.

Robin took a seat next to Damian, and an arm was instantly wrapped around her shoulders.  She was pulled close, and leaned her head on his shoulder.  A contented sigh escaped her lips before she asked curiously, “What are you doing?”

Misunderstanding the direction of the question, Damian replied, “Your tone changed when we were talking yesterday.  You sounded…I don’t know.  Sad, I guess.  I just thought, you know, you could use some comforting.”

Grinning, Robin said, “Thank you, and I guess I do need some comforting, but that isn’t what I meant.  What I meant was, why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Oh.” Robin found the slight blush that crossed his cheeks to be cute and endearing.  She nestled closer under his arm as Damian said, “I was thinking of rearranging my furniture, but I couldn’t think of how I wanted the room to look.  I was just visualizing what the room could look like.”

“…And, you couldn’t do that sitting at your desk, or lying on your bed?”

Damian shrugged, “Different frame of mind requires different field of vision.”

“Is that what it really is,” Robin said with a smile in her voice.

“If you believe it, then that’s what it is.  If not, then we’re just leaning against the bed for no other reason than to lean against the bed.  However, you mentioned lying on the bed.  Is that a hint that we should be moving faster again?”

Robin turned to look at the playful expression on his face without lifting her head from his shoulder.  He leaned down, and their lips met briefly before she said, “Bad boy.  You were the one who said we should wait until we’re older.”

“Yes, I did, and I still believe that…unless you want to change anything.  I think you’ll find that my mind can be changed rather easily on that subject.”

Robin sobered slightly, thinking about the last time they had come close to taking their relationship to the next level.  “Damian, seeing you that scared, when we tried to push things too fast last time, might have been the worst thing I’ve ever seen.  Even knowing that we can get past anything, I never want to see that again, or worse, be the cause of it.”

Damian wrapped both arms around the girl and said, “It’s not any fun for me, either.  I don’t want bad memories when I’m with you.  I can wait if you can.”

Robin nodded, “It really will be for the best, for us.”

They were quiet for a minute before Damian asked, “So, does your father know you’re here?”

“Someone had to drive me over here.”

Damian continued, “Does _my_ Father know you’re up here?”

Robin smiled, “Yes, silly.  He told me where you were.  He’s talking to dad downstairs.”

“So, if we _had_ just gone for it, it would have been their fault, right?”

Robin giggled, “I like the way you think sometimes, Damian.”

“Why did you come over today, Robin?  I know it wasn’t just my charming personality.  You didn’t call first.  I’m not complaining.  Just curious.  You’ve always called first before coming over.”

“Can’t we just enjoy this for a while,” Robin asked softly.

Damian swallowed hard, then slowly positioned Robin so he could look into her eyes.  He sighed, then leaned forward and kissed her, long and deep.

When they separated, she asked, “What was that for?”

“I had to do it now,” he said sadly.  “The way you’re talking, and not talking, it sounds like I probably won’t have a chance later.”

A small gasp from the girl all but confirmed his guess.  Damian blinked rapidly against the rising heat behind his eyes as he said, barely above a whisper, “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you.”

A tear leaked from Robin’s eye as she looked down, guiltily, and whispered, “I just don’t see that I have any other choice.”

A dry sob escaped the boy.  Robin looked up to see pain, but no tears, on the boy’s face, _yet._

“What did I do?  What did I do wrong?  I can fix it, if you just give me another chance.  Is it because I had to lie to you about being Robin?  Is it because I’m Robin?  I…that can change.  You’re more important to me than Robin.”

Robin was astonished.  _He would actually consider not being Robin anymore, just to keep me?  That’s amazing, and it makes this so much harder._   “No, it’s not…Robin, and although you did lie to me, it’s not that, either.  You did lie to me, though.  You told me I knew all of your secrets.”

The watery tone in his voice still didn’t show up in his eyes.  “Technically, I said you knew all the painful secrets from my past.  Most of the time, Robin isn’t painful, and it isn’t from the past, but that’s not important right now.”  Damian looked down, and his voice sounded small.  “Is it…is it because I’m… I’m too young for you?  If it is, then the only time I can do something about that is every October.  Please, Robin, tell me what I did to bring this on.”

The boy sounded desperate, and it was breaking Robin’s heart.  “It isn’t any of that, Damian.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do this,” Damian sobbed, a tear finally crawling slowly down his cheek.

Her bottom lip trembled as she said, “It’s the kidnapping.  We don’t feel safe in Gotham anymore.”

“We,” Damian asked shakily.

“Yes.  Right here, right now, in your arms, is the first time I’ve felt safe since Gina and I were kidnapped.  No matter how nice it might be, I can’t spend the rest of my life in your arms.  Eventually, we’ll have to go to school, to get jobs.  I know, the fear will fade over time, but for now, my family needs a clean break.  Dad has business obligations at his new pipeline in Alaska, so…we’re moving there.”

“When?”

“In about a week.”

Damian nodded slowly, relieved that he hadn’t done anything wrong in the girl’s eyes.  He didn’t say anything, and Robin spoke again after a minute of silence.  “Didn’t you hear me?  I said, we’re moving to Alaska.”

“I heard you,” Damian said quietly.

“Well?  Why aren’t you mad?  Why aren’t you upset?”

“I’m upset,” Damian said stiffly.

Still not getting the reaction she expected, Robin asked, “Why aren’t you yelling at me?  Why are you still holding me?  Why…why don’t you hate me?”

Damian took a shaky breath before saying, “I couldn’t hate you if I tried.  I’m upset, but I understand.”

“Damn it, why are you so calm about this?  Alaska, Damian!  Four thousand miles from Gotham City.”

Damian closed his eyes, more tears leaking down his cheeks.  “If I blow up now, you will go through with this break up attempt.  You bring out the self-control I never knew I had.  I understand, because as much as I love you, I can’t stand in the way of your family.  If we were a couple years older, then it might be different, but right now, you and your family have to do what’s best for you.”

“But…”

“Do you want to go,” Damian interrupted.

“What,” she asked, blinking at the change of tactic.

“Do you _want_ to leave Gotham City to move to Alaska?”

Robin cocked her head, “I really don’t care one way or the other about Gotham City.  What I don’t want to leave is you.”

A small smile tried to work its way onto Damian’s face, but failed.  “Then, why do you want to break up with me?”

“I don’t,” she blurted out, her eyes widening at the admission, “but we’re moving.  I don’t see any other options.”

Damian took a deep breath before saying, “Robin, I think you know me pretty well by now.  I think you know that I don’t give away my heart to just anyone.  That has never happened before.  Like it or not, I’m yours, heart and soul.  You once said that you wanted what your parents have; to fall in love with your best friend.  Well, I fell in love with my best friend, and I’m not about to give that up without a fight.  What is four thousand miles compared to true love?  You should know by now that I fight for what I want.  I don’t want to give up what we have, so I will fight like hell to keep it.  I’m sorry, but I don’t accept your break up.”

Robin’s jaw fell at the impassioned speech.  She took his hand gently and said, “Damian, I’ve fallen in love with my best friend, too, and breaking up is the last thing I want to do.  I just don’t see any other option right now.”

“How about not breaking up,” Damian asked with a forced smirk.

“Just like that?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alaska, Damian,” she deadpanned, “Fairbanks, Alaska.”

“Sounds cold.”

A short giggle escaped Robin at that remark.  “Yes, it does.  But seriously, what can we do?”

“The way I see it, we have three options.  One, I’m pretty small.  You can just pack me in a moving box and take me with you.  Just be sure to poke some air holes in the box, and give me some water.  I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think that’s really an option, Damian.”

Damian shrugged, “Okay, two.  There are one hundred sixty-eight rooms in Wayne Manor.  It may take a little convincing, but you can have your choice of any of them, including this one.  Just remember, if you choose this one, it does come with a roommate, but it also has a comfortable bed, big enough for two.”

“As tempting as that sounds, and believe me, I’m tempted, I think that idea will be shot down pretty quick.”

“I had to try,” Damian said with a shrug.  “Three.  Ninety-five percent of our relationship has been over the phone, through text messages and emails, and over Skype.  Why can’t we continue that?”

Robin’s eyes widened, “You want to try the long distance relationship?”

“We’re hardly the first people put in this situation.  I want to try.  I can’t lose you without losing a part of myself.  If you’re willing, I…I want to try.  It’s better than giving up on what we have.”

Damian looked up with such hope shining in his eyes that Robin couldn’t refuse, even if she wanted to.  “Let’s do it.  As much as you say you’re mine, I’m yours.  I don’t want to give you up if I don’t have to.  It’ll be hard, though.  When will we ever see each other?”

Damian gave a true smirk.  “I think we can figure something out.  Think about it.  Your father is a multi-millionaire.  My father is a multi-billionaire.  If they can’t afford the occasional plane ticket, then there is a serious problem.”

Robin smiled at the boy, liking the plan more every minute.  “I think we can do this.  Damian, I wish I had your commitment.  I would have ended this and been miserable for the foreseeable future, and I would have made you miserable.  Thank you.  I wish I was worth the way you treated me.”

“You are,” Damian assured her.  “With that in mind, and the talk of commitments, I have something for you.”

Robin’s eyes widened as Damian reached into the bottom drawer of his nightstand.  “Wait, I just tried to break up with you, and you’re giving me a gift?  Damian, I don’t deserve anything for what I tried to do today.”

Damian pulled a small box out of the drawer and said, “It’s a stressful time.  You were only doing what you thought your only option was.  Actually, this was going to be your Christmas present, but since I might not see you on Christmas now, I have to give it to you now.  Now, don’t get the wrong idea about this.”

Damian opened the small box, and Robin gasped in shock.  Inside was a ring, a simple band of platinum.  Damian took it from the velvet and slipped it on her finger, saying, “Now, this isn’t an engagement ring, or a wedding ring.  This is just a symbol of our friendship, our love, and my commitment to you.  However, when I turn seventeen, you can bet that I will be giving you another one, because the day after my eighteenth birthday, I want to marry you.”

Thinking of a day six years down the road to make a lifelong commitment should have scared the girl, but oddly, Damian’s plan sounded _right_ to her.  Still, caution stayed her initial comment.  “Why don’t we see where we are in a couple years, and have this talk again then?”

“I don’t see what will change in that time, but we can talk about it as much as you want.”

Robin straddled the boy’s legs and placed her hands on his chest, He wrapped his arms loosely around her back, joining his hands at the small of her back.  She looked deeply into his eyes and whispered, “Thank you for not giving up on us.”

Damian whispered back, “I’ll fight for us until my last breath.  I hope you will, too.”

“I will, now that we have a future to fight for.  Until then, though, I’ll take a couple of those breaths you’re holding on to for the fight.”  Robin leaned in and kissed Damian fiercely and passionately.

Two hours later, after Robin had succeeded in taking Damian’s breath away, and they had explained what they had decided, minus the future wedding plans, to a satisfied Bruce and Mike, Damian sat alone in the front sitting room, staring into the cold fireplace.  He didn’t notice when a large figure sat next to him, until an elbow nudged him gently.

“Rough couple of days, huh, Squirt?”

Not looking up, Damian said flatly, “Todd.”

“Well?”

“Yeah, rough,” Damian sighed.

“Want to talk about it?”

Damian looked up at the man strangely.  “I’d rather be alone right now, Todd.”

Jason took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I think I would, too.”

“Then why are you here?”

“A thought occurred to me.”  The room was silent for a minute before Jason said, “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

Damian sighed, “You’re going to tell me, whether I want to hear it or not.”

Jason gave a small smile.  “You’re right.  I am.  We’re both pretty miserable, right?  Right?” Jason asked again, nudging Damian when he didn’t say anything.

“Right,” Damian said grudgingly.

“There’s no reason we have to be miserable alone.”

Damian cocked his head as he thought about it.  Jason wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulders and pulled him gently into his side.  To Jason’s surprise, Damian seemed to melt into his side.  He had remained strong for Robin, first in talking her out of breaking up with him, then again when watching her leave the manor, possibly for the last time, and his resolve was shot.  Damian just wondered how it was Jason that came to find him first.

“Todd, there may be something to this line of thought.”

Jason just patted the boy’s back as Damian turned his face into his older brother’s shoulder, buried his eyes against the soft fabric, and let his emotions flow, soaking the material beneath his face as he was pulled in tighter.

From the hallway, Dick had to bite his lip as Bruce’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, and they watched as the man and the youth took their first real steps on the path to truly becoming brothers.

 

**A/N:  Well, that’s it.  Another one done.  Don’t hate me for how it turned out, this was almost the original plan from the moment I created the character of Robin.  The original plan was for this to be the last we ever see of Robin, but she has gotten such good reactions on two fan fiction sites now, that I have changed my timeline (I actually changed it a while ago).  We will see Robin again, but it might not be for a while.**

**I have a couple other story outlines in the works.  I just need to decide which one I want to write next.  Work is pretty busy at the moment, so I don’t have a lot of time to plan new stories for the next month or so.  That isn’t a joke or a misdirection this time; I just don’t have the time to come up with something new right now.  Don’t worry, the outlines I have ready will be able to last until I can get some extra brainstorming time.**

**I would love to her what you all think of the completed story.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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